


Supernova

by CharredAshes, Namibulous



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Background Ana/Gabe, Background Jack/Gabe, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Romance, Slow Burn, Trans Genji Shimada, Trans Jesse McCree, Trans Male Character, Werewolf Jesse McCree
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-07-23 16:19:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 42,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16162466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharredAshes/pseuds/CharredAshes, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Namibulous/pseuds/Namibulous
Summary: Blackwatch stands to protect a world on a precipice: the one of fairytales and mythos, magical and monstrous. A world that has struggled to stay in the shadows since the very beginning of society itself. But secrets can't stay kept forever, and with the emergence of anti-magic Talon on the scene, the situation is teetering on the very brink. Jesse McCree can barely keep his own head in the midst of the war, but when he meets turbulent Genji Shimada in a fateful encounter, the trouble is only bound to get worse.





	1. Wolf

Hanamura was cold in the winter. Bitterly so – colder than the Swiss base, the kind of cold with icy wind that would sneak beneath gaps in your clothes, nip your skin until it was red. Jesse’s breath came in hot puffs and slipped out from the scarf wrapped around his face in rivulets of steam. He’d rather replace it with smoke, if he were being honest, with lungs aching. Snow drifted down in heavy flakes, building a little wall around the outline of his body where he sat against the tree. 

Stakeouts were arduous, especially when you had no real idea if they would be fruitful or not. They knew, as well as they could, that this was an active Talon outpost. They had seen Talon officers coming and going, but their target – though they knew he was in Hanamura on  _ some  _ kind of business – had yet to make an appearance. Supposedly, he’d be at the outpost tonight for a meeting of some sort, but they’d only learned as much from their mole inside the organization. And their trust in them was still rather tenuous. 

Still, it was the best they had to go on for the moment, so there Jesse was. Letting himself be buried by the thick Hanamura snowfall as he camped out in wait for their target’s arrival. With a sigh, he set his binoculars down in his lap and pulled up his holoscreen, the dull red glow reflecting back on his face as he reviewed the scant files they’d collected on him. 

Dr. Lucas Church. He was an executive by trade, but apparently spent his free time throwing so much money at Talon they put him on the board of directors. According to what they'd gathered on him, the only thing he had a vested interest in as far as Talon went was doubling the investment he'd given them. Major source of Talon funding. High level player in the organization. Take him out of the equation and they end up scrambling. An ideal situation, really. 

Really, it would have been a great move against the growing organization. They were dangerous, but still in their infancy. Knocking their legs out from under them at this stage would leave Blackwatch poised to strike when they were most vulnerable and nip this whole thing in the bud before it got too out of hand. 

Except for one little snag. Church showed, and so did his daughter. And she’d brought company. Jesse recognized her from the files, the same tall stature and pin-straight, pale blonde hair as her father. Jesse almost,  _ almost  _ wanted to laugh when their chauffeur let them out of the car, Lucas in his sharp, black suit and his daughter, Lilith, all in diamonds and a turtleneck dress. They looked like Bond villains. Lilith’s company, however, Jesse wasn’t so sure about. A Japanese man, around her age, if he had to guess. Green hair, of all things. Shorter than her, especially in the shoes she was wearing. Slight stagger in his step, tipsy at least. He looked like he was dressed more for clubbing than an important business meeting, but the way he curled his arm around Lilith’s waist, too close to simply be escorting her, marked him undoubtedly as her date. Jesse would have brushed him off as some pretty boy toy, nothing more, except for two problems with that assessment. 

One –  you didn’t let your boy toy tag along to an evil business meeting. 

Two – he looked so  _ naggingly _ familiar. 

Jesse must have been briefed on him. You didn’t forget a look like that, and you didn’t see it around often enough for it to just look vaguely familiar either. He flicked through file after file on his holoscreen, eyebrows scrunching together as he searched the Talon documents and found nothing. He searched for people connected to Talon and found nothing. The fact that their databases didn’t contain a lot of green-haired twenty-somethings definitely helped the search go quicker, but it didn’t do much for Jesse’s mounting annoyance at the lack of results. Finally, he turned to searching their folder of the ‘who’s who?’ of Hanamura elites, and there he struck gold. In the worst way possible. 

Reyes’ warning during his initial briefing for the mission echoed in his head. It had been less than nothing, a tiny aside when going through the names he needed to know in Hanamura. 

_ “Shimadas. They’re a nasty bunch, but not too dangerous if you don’t get too close. They don’t have any known connections to Talon, so you shouldn’t have any reason to step on their feet during the investigation, but they might as well run the whole damn city, so there’s a good chance you’ll at least brush shoulders with someone connected to them. Just keep your head down and do what you came there to do.”  _

Except he couldn’t follow those cautionary words, because with Genji Shimada’s stupid, picture-perfect smile looking back at him from his holoscreen, staying out of the Shimadas’ way and doing his job ended up in direct competition. Should he interrupt the meeting as planned and possibly earn the Shimadas’ ire, or should he abort the mission wholly? It could be their one chance to catch Church with his pants down for a good long while, and Jesse was grinding his teeth in frustration just at the thought of having to pass it up. It wasn’t his call to make though. He pressed his fingers to his earpiece, turning the mic on so he could speak. 

“Reyes, you there?” 

“What’s up, McCree?” Reyes’ even tone was soothing, calm despite how he must have known Jesse contacting him so deep into the mission could mean little else than that he’d hit a major pothole. Jesse’s raised hackles smoothed, and he sighed. 

“Problem, boss. Church is here –” 

“Sounds like the opposite of a problem.” 

“Lemme finish, smartass. Church is here, and so’s his daughter. And she brought a date.”

Reyes snorted at the wording. “Much as I appreciate the sense of drama in leaving it so vague, I can’t exactly advise you unless you give me a little more detail than that.” 

Jesse shifted forward a bit, bringing his binoculars back up to check the scene. The Churches plus Shimada had disappeared into the building while he’d been sorting through his files, but he could see the car had been taken around the front to wait for them, so they must have been inside. “It’s one of the Shimada kids. The younger one.”

Dead silence, for so long a stretch that Jesse was almost worried he’d lost the connection. Then finally, he spoke. 

“Well, shit. That  _ does  _ make this more challenging.” 

“That’s puttin’ it fuckin’ lightly,” Jesse replied, sour. “Either I do what I came for here today an’ possibly put the Shimada kid in a hospital, or I go home. I don’t think either of those lines up with your plans here too well, boss.” 

Gabriel said nothing, but Jesse could hear his fingers drumming against his desk as he considered the options. “No,” he finally said. “You do neither of those, because you’re a good agent, and I have full faith that you can get this job done without causing the Shimada kid any… significant harm.” 

“Define significant.” 

“If he gets a bruise when you push him out of the way, that’s fine. But we don’t know why he’s there, we don’t know if the Shimadas have any real connection to Talon, and until we do know more, I’d like to avoid bringing the wrath of God down upon on you while you’re still in the wolves’ den.”

It was going to be a long ass night, wasn’t it? “You got it, boss. Over an’ out, I’ll call back when this is done.” 

Jesse stood from his post, pocketing his comm and Reyes’ words. Wolves’ den, ha ha. He hoped it’d stay nothing more than a metaphor, and he kept his hand on his holster as he approached the building.

Infiltration was nothing new for Jesse. In Blackwatch, it was the childest of child’s play – getting into somewhere you were very much not supposed to be without tipping off anyone that knew you weren’t supposed to be there. Guess this would be a little more like an assassination when shit hit the fan, he thought, as he wormed his way into an open window. Considering the guards, and the risk of making a ruckus that might alert Church to high-tail it out of there, he would have to count his steps carefully. Limit noise – limit, lamentably, the use of his beloved Peacekeeper.

So it went: Jesse flanked a Talon guard as he came around a hallway corner, snapping his neck with an easy twist and stuffing him into a closet. It – Wolf – perked right up at that, and Jesse could feel it pacing ‘round the stem of his brain in eager anticipation. He ignored it. 

According to the intelligence’s blueprints, the building interior was relatively small. He could make it to the boardroom in just a few more hallways. Of course, that meant a few more chances for a few dozen more guards. Jesse took it in stride, walking so quietly and carefully that he tested his own patience, stopping at every footstep that wasn’t his own and dispatching with the owners as cleanly as he could.

Things weren’t quite as clinical as he neared the boardroom, keeping himself scarce behind a corner. He smelled it. Two guards this time, standing one on each side of the door. Another scent was just beyond them – but he didn’t need that to know it was Shimada and the Churches. He could hear them, a private conversation but crystal-clear to his ears.

“Genji –” An American man’s voice. Lucas Church then. “– You do prefer ‘Genji’, right? I hope you don’t mind if I speak plainly with you. Lilith tells me you seem to grow quickly bored with formalities.”

“Quicker with beautiful girls,” joked a younger, Japanese-accented voice. “But you can, too, I suppose.”

“You have been passing a fair amount of time with my daughter, haven’t you,” Church chuckled. “She’s only had good things to say about you, you know. Tells me you’re quick as a whip.”

There was a comically long pause. “Yeah. That’s me.”

Jesse dug his teeth into his lip, physically biting back a snort. Yeah.  _ Yeah _ . Lilith broke in with a quick word, “Cleverer than his brother, I’d say. That’s why I’m so sure he’ll be enthusiastic about our proposal –  _ Genji  _ knows the value of a good offer. Don’t you, GenGen?” 

“That would depend on what I have to give,” ‘GenGen’ replied. “Since ‘proposal’ is just a fancy word for ‘I want something!’”

“Your family has vast resources,” Church said. “Talon has approached them with offers before, but it seems we didn’t manage to capture the attentions of your brother or father … But, ah, forgive me. I never did offer my condolences for your father’s recent passing. He was a very accomplished man. Your brother seeks to become even more accomplished, I must assume?” 

Yeesh. Jesse scrunched his nose at the words. Kind of a deep cut to go digging your fingers into during a business meeting. Jesse didn’t know much about the Shimada family, but during his briefing it had been mentioned that they’d recently lost the head of their family and that the older brother had been shuffled in to replace him. He didn’t know if either of the Shimada heirs were close with their father, but … Still. 

“... I don’t know. I don’t really care.”

“Ah, but his ambition, that helps him. And where does it leave you?” Jesse could only guess, but he’d have put money on the slimy, venomous smile he was sure Church would be wearing at that moment. “You’re about his same age. I’m sure they’ll be looking for him to marry and produce another heir shortly enough. Barring a tragic assassination in the next twenty-odd years, the clan … Just wouldn’t have much use for a spare, would they? But if you make yourself into your own man, come into your own power, then you secure your place.” 

“It’s interesting,” Genji said after a small pause. “Interesting that you believe I care about power.” There was a laugh, careless and light. “I’m just here to have fun!”

Once more, Lilith jumped in, “Your fun is quite expensive, Genji. Not that I disapprove, of course! I can appreciate a taste for the fine things life has to offer,  _ but  _ your fun is financed by your clan. Suppose they decided to stop paying for the expensive bars and luxury hotels? Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to pay for those things without the weight of their possible disapproval hanging over your head? It could drop at any moment, GenGen.  _ We  _ could be your safety net. And you’d hardly have to do anything.” 

Another laugh, but this one was sharper. “I have had their disapproval since I was born. It never bothered me before.”

Well, eavesdropping wouldn’t do him a whole lot of good at this point. The Churches might have been determined, but they were trying to get blood from a stone. Jesse would have been interested to know if there was a tie about to be formed between the two groups, but just the way Shimada spoke - his disinterest in anything Talon might offer him was beyond obvious. No reason to listen further, and no reason to worry about Church making a break for it. 

Jesse ducked around the corner, quick on his trigger as ever. He managed a good shot on one of the guards, a bullet to the forehead making a mess of the wall behind. But it seemed like he underestimated the training of Talon soldiers, because even before his next shot was lined up – pain. Sharp and hot, pain blossomed out from his left shoulder as a bullet from the other guard lodged itself in his flesh. Quick on the shot. Quicker than Jesse had thought they would be. His gun dropped, clattering to the floor with a metallic racket. Rage bubbled inside of him, the pacing from the back of his head forcing itself to the forefront, violent and red, snarling. He lunged. The next shot the guard made went too wide, because there came a man one moment, and a wolf the next.

“B-beast!” He cried, his last words before claws raked through his throat, five hot steak knives through butter.

Guess it  _ was _ a wolves’ den, now.

Jesse tossed the body aside as he kicked down the door. More guards awaited – two more. Lucas Church on one side of a long table, Lilith Church on the other. And beside her – Genji Shimada. If his Jesse-brain had been more present in the moment, perhaps the look of terror on Shimada’s face would have been a good indicator as to how badly he’d fucked this one up. But there were more urgent matters that required his attention. Like the gunshot that pierced the stunned silence. 

Jesse ducked, quicker this time, and let the bullet sail harmlessly over his right side. Pain screamed in his shoulder, but that only fueled the beast as he swung up, tossing a leather office chair with a fearsome momentum, and watching it collide with the offending shooter, metal wheels first,  _ cracking _ against their face. The guard was flung to the floor and lay there, groaning.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Church demanded. “How did it get in here? Kill that monstrosity, _ now _ !”

The standing guard needed not be told twice. He fired, a shot glancing off the armor that clung to Jesse’s enlarged frame, but another slicing a sizeable gash across his side. Naturally, that only served to make him angrier. He snarled, lunged, tackled the Talon agent to the carpet and tore into him. In a moment, he was up again, face stained with gore, his golden eyes peeling for Church. And there he found him, across the room by now with his daughter, and the injured Talon soldier that covered their escape. 

One thing was for sure, he didn’t go to all this goddamn trouble to let them just get away. So he ignored the guard, ignored everything, and ran for the fleeing two. He expected he might get another bullet for his trouble. What he hadn’t expected was to be careened into by a body, and thrown off his footing to the floor.

Coiled up like a violent spring, Jesse was prepared to rip into this guard just like he had the other. But it wasn’t a mask with ferocious red eyes that saw above him. It was brown eyes, a soft and handsome face. Genji Shimada was staring down at him, and looked just as shaken as before, yet determined. He held a blade to Jesse’s neck.

“No!” Jesse found himself shouting, voice strained, caught somewhere between Jesse’s and the Wolf’s snarly rumble. “They’re getting away!”

He tried shoving the man off of him as harmlessly as he could, and sure enough as he pushed up, he saw no guard, no Church. Three corpses and a yakuza prince were all that remained. It took everything in Jesse not to howl in frustration.

“What the hell are you?” Genji’s voice trembled as he stood, braced by the table, wielding the knife before him like one might wield a sword. “What the hell is going on?!”

Shit.

“Ah …” The guard had surely called for backup as they made their escape with the Churches. More would surely be on the way. Jesse was surely a dead man if they caught him here. 

He was sure it’d be easier to calm Shimada down if he didn’t look like he was on the run from Van Helsing, but his Wolf was still agitated, and it refused to sink back down into its proper place and let Jesse fully take the wheel. “Honestly, I ain’t really got the time to explain it all to you right now.” 

“Make time.”

“See, the problem with that is there’s gonna be a whole shit load a’ guards swarmin’ this place in … I dunno, ten minutes? So how about this - I’ll explain it when we get the hell outta here.” 

“What? No! You start talking right  _ the fuck _ now, or I –”

A growl rumbled in Jesse’s chest.  _ He didn’t have time for this!  _ “Sorry pardner, but if we don’t get movin’, you’re gonna be tryin’ to get your explanation from a corpse.” Shimada was close enough that it wasn’t a particularly difficult task to knock the knife from his grip and grab him by the hips. “Up we go!” And he tossed him over one big fluffy shoulder (the uninjured one, mind you). 

There came – Jesse assumed – a frenzy of Japanese curse words, and a flurry of fists beating against his back. He was sure it would have hurt if he hadn’t been transformed – hell, it hurt a bit even so. But what choice did he have here? If he left the prince behind, he’d surely go spouting off about the  _ werewolf  _ that had ravaged its way through the Talon guards and tried to kill the Churches, and that’d just cause a lot of complications. So, he could do little more than apologize (“Sorry, sorry – ow – sorry!”) as he carted Genji through the halls, back towards the exit. He was sure to pick up Peacekeeper on the way, slipping her back into the holster clinging tightly to his hip before making his way out of the building.

By the time he made it back to his lookout spot some distance away, he was exhausted. Normally he’d have more stamina, but getting shot and running a mile with a guy punching you in the back the whole time could really take it out of a guy. He dumped Shimada into the snow and stopped to catch his breath, clawed hands on his knees as he bent over, panting and wincing at how the cold, dry winter air swirled painfully in his burning lungs. 

And then Shimada kicked him. Right in the stomach while Jesse was keeled over, and next drove a powerful elbow down into his back that sent him face-first into the snow.

“Okay,” he groaned from his position on the ground. “That’s … Pretty fair. I deserved that.” He’d be feeling pretty violent too if he got hauled off into the woods by a wolfman he didn’t know. 

“Talk,” Shimada demanded, staring down at him with yet another knife in his hand. (Where was he  _ getting _ all of these?) “Who are you,  _ what _ are you, and why did you kill those people?”

Jesse rolled onto his back, wincing as Wolf tried to push Jesse fully into the passenger’s seat, wanting to take the lead here. Looking even more wolfish than he already did wouldn’t help things, nor would trying to maul Shimada, as he was fairly certain Wolf wanted to do. So he laid there for a moment, hands squeezed into fists as he shoved his copilot to the back like an overenthusiastic labrador getting shoved to the backseat after jumping to the front during a drive. No need to cause any car crashes today. 

“Let’s start with a name,” Jesse suggested. “I’m Jesse McCree. An’ you’re Genji Shimada, yeah?” 

Shimada huffed, lowering the knife. “What about it?”

“I mean, nothin’ much. You ain’t the reason I’m in Hanamura.” Jesse pushed himself up as he spoke, not standing but going to sit, rubbing his bruised stomach as he did. “That’d be your girlfriend, an’ her damn snake-in-the-grass father. You were just unfortunate enough to get caught up in it.” 

“Girlfrie – oh. Lilith.” Shimada took a step back, slipping his weapon down into the seam of his pants. “So, what. You and Church are having a spat? Or is it this  _ Talon _ ?”

“You could put it like that,” Jesse said with a nod and a shrug. “A few months back, Talon raided an outpost of my people. One a’ the ones with family housin’ – I’m sure you can put two an’ two together on that one. So, this was our answer. Or … It was gonna be.” He snarled in frustration, a noise from deep in his chest, as he remembered that the Churches had gotten away without a scratch. “Goddammit … Church is gonna be skittish for months now, at least.”

Though he was surely trying to hide it from Jesse, Shimada did noticeably soften at that explanation. Nevertheless, he moved on, pushing a sharpness he didn’t seem to quite feel. “What _ are _ you?”

“I’m exactly what I look like,” Jesse said, even as the gold tint began to slowly fade from his eyes and his pawed feet retracted to their human form (ruined another pair of boots, goddammit.) “An’ that’s why I carried you back here with me - sorry ‘bout that, again. But we needed to talk. It’ll be real bad for me if you go tellin’ folks you saw a werewolf. Can we just …” He trailed off, puffing in exhaustion. “Can we …” Jesse pressed a hand against his head, feeling nauseous as Wolf slunk back to curl up and rest, taking strength and adrenaline with it and leaving Jesse with their bullet wounds and blood loss. “Sorry. Just –” He needed a moment. 

“You’re bleeding,” Shimada realized for the first time. Or perhaps cared to awknowledge for the first time. “You should –” He gave an awkward pause, vaguely gesturing. “Fix that.”

“I’ll get over it.” Jesse took a deep breath. His shoulder itched, flesh trying to stitch itself back together awkwardly around the bullet still embedded. Shit, Angela was gonna give him a hell of a lecture for letting himself heal over a bullet again. It was a whole ordeal to get out when that happened. “Look, I don’t wanna hurt you. I ain’t  _ gonna  _ hurt you. But I’d be real appreciative if you could gimme your word that you won’t start runnin’ your mouth about all this. I’m gonna be in enough shit with my boss as it is for lettin’ Church get away.” 

“What would I get out of giving my word?”

“My gratitude?” 

“Oh,  _ Great. _ ”

“I’d  _ owe you one _ . How about that?” 

Shimada eyed him, the cogs turning in that pretty little head, quickly looking like the yakuza prince he was titled to be. “Suppose nobody would believe a word I said, anyway. And I think I would like to cash in that ‘one’ as soon as possible.” He crossed his arms with a haughty lift of his chin. “I want you to tell me  _ everything. _ ”

Jesse rubbed his arms with a sigh. He was worn out, bloodied, freezing, and just plain  _ done _ . “Can we go somewhere less snowy first? Your pick.” 

“Where are you staying?”

“Cheap hotel.” 

“I pick there.”

A quiet pause came as Jesse pushed himself up onto wobbly legs. He brushed the snow off his ass, pushed his hair back out of his eyes, and nodded. “Fine. What d’ya wanna know?”


	2. 20(ish) Questions

There was one thing that could be said about Genji Shimada, and it was something he made sure of. The yakuza prince, born to a life of white-collar crime and deception, had honed his ability to be unreadable to any and all people that attempted to know him. It was an art he’d perfected, right down to polishing the gilded metaphorical armor. 

But  _ what?  _

What the everloving _fuck?_

As he sat in a cheap hotel room belonging to the shoeless, bloodied man he’d apparently come to know as McCree, Genji was only barely holding his tinpot facade together. Sure, he’d read fairy tales. Every child had. The Big Bad Wolf, the one that ate the three little pigs. The one that harassed Little Red Riding Hood. The one that barged into the room that sat a little prince, and gored a guard to death. 

Oh,  _ wait! _

That one just happened!

_ Ha ha ha! _

Genji held a hand up to his temple, a groan bubbling from his chest and dying in his throat. Where could he begin to ask questions? All he could muster up was more curse words, and attempting to think longer on it only strained his throbbing headache. Instead, he sorrowfully lamented on why his terror had to sober him up so quickly. He’d been keeping a steady buzz going for at least – how long? How long had it been since his father passed? 

His gaze passed up to his company.

McCree had tidied himself up some, or tried to treat his wounds, at least. He sat with the top of his uniform undone and pulled down around his waist – a sight Genji was not opposed to – with gauze taped to his shoulder. When they’d arrived, he’d picked at it for a while, scraping into his wound with tweezers for some awful reason, before apparently deciding it was useless and leaving it be. He simply disinfected and bandaged it, instead.

The whole time he’d worked, he’d been silent, save for the occasional grunt of pain or breath sucked in between clenched teeth. It was only when he dropped himself down to sit on the edge of the bed that he finally spoke. 

“Where should I start?” 

It jostled Genji’s awareness up from where he stared. Right, he  _ had _ demanded questions answered. Suppose that meant he had to ask them now. He straightened his posture, then laxed it backwards onto his arms.

“Is there more than just the Big Bad Wolf?”

“Oh sure, Lil Red an’ the three lil pigs are all present,” McCree said with a roll of his eyes.

Genji resented that. “Look, I am trying to cope, here. So are you going to answer me or not?”

At that, McCree just sighed, dropping his head and reaching a hand back to rub the nape of his neck. Some kind of nervous or exasperated habit. “Yes. There’s more than the Big Bad Wolf. There’s … Shit, anythin’ you could think of, probably.  _ Not  _ the three pigs or Lil Red Ridin’ Hood or none a’ that, I mean, but general stuff. I dunno. Think less fairy tales about princesses an’ more folklore about witches an’ vampires.”   
Like that was much better. Genji trained his thoughts on stories of those kinds instead, and rather than children’s stories, his head summoned up young adult romances, or products sitting on shelves for Halloween. What part of that made it any less ridiculous? He didn’t care to hide his thought from his skeptical expression. 

“And you’re a werewolf. You turn into a monster on a full moon, and wander in packs and stuff like that,” he assumed.

“I’m a werewolf,” Jesse confirmed. “I share my body with a wolf, an’ sometimes it’s more in control than I am. It’s stronger the fuller the moon. I’m more or less in a pack. Is that enough explanation?” 

“You share your body. With a wolf.”

“For lack of a better term.” 

“Does it like treats? Do tricks?” Genji tilted his head, whispering conspiratorially, “ _ Do you lick yourself clean, too? _ ”

“Between the two of us, we know how to sit, stay, an’ play blackjack,” McCree said, lips twitching into a sardonic smirk. “ _ I  _ prefer to use my tongue for other things. No comment on what it does on its time.” 

Genji somehow found it in himself to laugh at that, even if it was bitterness that spurred his own jokes. Alright, so it didn’t have to be hostility between them, even if he had not entirely forgiven being a little bit traumatized, sobered, and subsequently treated like a sack of potatoes.

He twisted in his seat, making himself a little more comfortable with his shitty surroundings (honestly, he had no idea Hanamura even  _ had _ hotels this cheap), and – as of now –  _ questionable _ company.

“Next question, then, Fido. You never told me who exactly you work for.”

At that, McCree hesitated. Noticeably. He didn’t show any immediate nervous gestures, but he did sit there, stone faced, for several long moments. His eyebrows pressed together. He looked deeply thoughtful, perhaps debating with himself on how honest his answer should be. When he did speak, his words were slow. Measured. 

“Overwatch. I work for Overwatch, under Commander Reyes. I told you, Talon’s been a thorn in our side lately.” 

“The peacekeeping organization,” Genji recalled from memory. He didn’t know why it was like pulling teeth to get that name from McCree. Everyone knew Overwatch, they were a household name, an organization under the United Nations that basically had a toe or two in the waters of every country. Of course, he didn’t care to know much more than that in the past, other than the Shimadas were happy not to catch any of their attention while doing business. “What does Talon want with Overwatch? No, better question – what the fuck _ is _ Talon? They wanted my father’s ass, my brother’s ass, and now mine, but I don’t even get what their deal is.”

“To be honest, we ain’t a hundred percent sure. We know they’re violently anti-magic, but beyond that …” McCree shook his head. “Them wantin’ ties with your family probably doesn’t have much to do with y’all as individuals, but more just that y’all have power an’ money. Hell, that’s all Church an’ his daughter have. Maybe when you’re really, really stupid rich like that, you just get so bored you start throwin’ money at terrorist organizations just to see what happens, eh?” He seemed more comfortable with Genji than he had before, going so far as to gently lay himself back against the pillows, trying not to jostle his shoulder as he did so. “I don’t know if Church has any genuine anti-magic sentiments, but I do know he’s got a PhD in business an’ that’s never a good sign. From what we know, he’s in Talon to make money. A lot a’ their board members are.” 

Genji was listening. Truly, he was. But he also zoned out a bit, his long-coming hangover making it so much sweeter to think about simpler nuggets of thought, such as McCree stretching out on the shitty – did he already describe this place as shitty? – hotel bed. “Okay. I guess.” He rubbed between his eyes, summoning forth what remained of his focus and dignity from his aching head. “I still feel like I don’t understand a bigger picture, here.”

McCree’s eyes shifted up towards the ceiling, and he gave a soft huff. “It’s like … Overwatch is a peacekeepin’ organization. Part of what we do – even though you won’t find it on any a’ the posters – is settle lil problems that pop up with the supernatural. Talon’s anti-magic. So –” His words were cut off, the communicator he’d left on the bedside table beeping so softly Genji probably wouldn’t have heard it if it had been in McCree’s ear. He reached to grab it. “Hang on, lemme get this.” 

It had Genji’s interest immediately. So, as with most things he had interest in, he was going to know more. He rolled out of his seat and joined McCree, giving an innocent look as he leaned in to listen.

McCree gave  _ him _ a look in return and pressed a hand against his chest to lightly push him back, leaning away as he did, but it hardly stopped Genji from pressing closer. “Yeah boss, I’m alive.” 

“What the hell happened?” A man’s voice – American. Annoyed. “I was expecting you to make contact when you were done.” 

“I know, I know, but we’ve got a problem.” 

“Oh? Another one? You’re just full of problems today, huh?” 

Genji snorted.

“Yeah, well, this problems a touch bigger than Lilith Church bringin’ her pretty lil boy toy to a meetin’.” He pressed his hand this time to Genji’s cheek to try and push him away again. The prince was undeterred. “Cause I’m sittin’ in my hotel room right now with said boy toy, an’ if that doesn’t tell you how bad I boned this one I dunno what will.” 

“You know, you can tell me about issues you had on the mission  _ without  _ mentioning that you –” 

Jesse cut him off before he could get anywhere. “Not what I meant an’ you know it!  _ Obviously  _ I wouldn’t be sittin’ in a hotel with Shimada if I killed his girlfriend’s father in front a’ the two a’ them. Church got away, boss. I got shot, Church got away, an’ now I’m sittin’ in a hotel room tryin’ to explain to Shimada that, yeah, werewolves an’ vampires an’ all them other things are real an’ I was just gettin’ to the part where I beg him not to blackmail me when you called.” 

The man – McCree’s boss – spoke in a much more sober tone when he responded to that. “Is the situation stable?” 

“For the moment.” 

“Then we’ll talk about how to proceed at your debriefing. Can you handle Shimada?” 

“Who  _ can _ handle Shimada?” Genji piped up, wearing a Cheshire cat grin.

A beat of silence came, then – “McCree, has he been listening this whole time?” 

“Nothin’ I can do about it boss. Y’know how when a cat’s tryin’ to eat off your plate an’ you try pushin’ ‘em back but they just kinda fold into themselves without actually movin’? That’s what he’s like. I keep pushin’ an’ it just doesn’t do no good.” 

Without any more resistance, Genji was able to press ear-to-ear with McCree, listening to this boss of his with much more clarity. Maybe this one would be able to give better answers than his subordinate was dishing out. “You’re Commander Reyes, I’m going to assume?”

McCree didn’t bother pushing him back. He just sighed. Reyes answered, “That’s me. I take it this is Shimada speaking?” 

“Genji.”

“Genji. Bet tonight’s been pretty weird for you.” 

“Well. Your agent is a dog.”

“Actually,” he said with a stern, firm edge. “Jesse’s a person.” 

“Okay, but half of him is.”

“The whole of him is a person. Look, I’m not going to argue semantics with a human who doesn’t know better. What do you want?” 

It was without a doubt the strangest thing to be called derogatorily. Human. Well, yeah, he was a human. Up until about an hour ago,  _ everyone  _ was a human! And he was quickly losing all amusement with this conversation, leaving behind just the irritation and an untreated ache. “I want to  _ understand _ ,” he finally snapped. “None of this is making any sense!”

“I don’t know how I can explain it any better than Jesse’s probably tried to. Why don’t you ask an actual question?” 

Genji lapsed into silence, closing his eyes, brows furrowed. Between the two in the room, the only sound came from their breath, audible from being so close. He decided that, above anything else, he needed to be hammered when this was over. “Okay. So, there’s magic people. Just, around. Right?”

“Right.” 

“Could it be anyone?”

“Sure, depending on how well they pass for human.” 

“And… Overwatch is  _ actually _ around to deal with… this stuff.”

There was a soft huff from the earpiece. “ _ No _ . Overwatch is around to be a peacekeeping organization. Dealing with the supernatural is just one part of that job – some people working for the organization will never even meet a magic person outside of the ones working with them.” 

“How often does  _ this _ happen?” He gave a side-eye to Jesse, whether or not he could see it.

“If you mean the situation with you, not often, if we can help it.” 

“Great.” Genji gave a breath of his own, rubbing the free side of his face. “I just happen to be so lucky. Talon wanted me, and now I’m making friends with fairy tales. Do you have to sacrifice me or something if I don’t agree to keep quiet?”

It was McCree who scoffed out an answer to that one, “A’ course not. But do you know how much paperwork I have to fill out when there’s a breach a’ secrecy?  A fuck ton. No one has fun. One time when we were in Texas, Wolf got loose on a full moon an’ went runnin’ around like a moron, an’ a whole bus a’  _ highschoolers  _ saw it an’ a bunch a’ them went on the news an’  _ obviously  _ no one believed them but it was still this whole fuckin’ thing. Ugh.” 

Genji turned his head slowly to look at McCree. “Paperwork –? This is _ your _ fault!”

“It’s really more Wolf’s fault. I got shot but it ain’t like I was dyin’. Damn fool can’t keep itself under control.” 

“Jesse –” Reyes again. “We talked about this, you can’t blame Pup –” 

“For actin’ like a wolf, I  _ know _ .” His voice was frustrated. “But I could’a done this quick an’ clean, an’ it had to go an’ fuck that up.” 

Something sickly sweet turned over Genji’s scowl. “ _ Pup? _ ”

“Shut up, it’s Reyes’ stupid nickname for the thing. Y’know what? Reyes, I’ll see you back in Switzerland.” And without any formal farewell, he reached up and pressed a button on the earpiece, silencing it.

“Hey!” Genji huffed, “I wasn’t done!”

McCree slid off the bed and away from him, tossing his communicator onto the bedside table as he went. “Too damn bad, I need a smoke.” 

Rude.

Genji sat on the bed in silence after McCree left, stuck somewhere between petulant pouting and frustrated resentment. And… something else he wasn’t too keen on acknowledging. It really wasn’t fair! All of these things kept happening to him, and he never asked for any of it. He didn’t want to be entangled in some sort of magical war, he didn’t want this knowledge, he didn’t want  _ power _ , he didn’t want a dead father and an asshole heir of a brother, he just wanted to feel sort of okay sometimes. Just sometimes. Was that unreasonable for fate to give him? A  _ sometimes _ ?

He breathed out a heavy sigh.

Well.

There wasn’t anything sulking in a shitty hotel would do for him. That was certain. But man. The only marginally pleasant thing about this was that the werewolf who brought him here was kind of good-looking. But Genji wasn’t going to sleep with him! So it all sucked! Everything sucked! Sulking sucked!

He came to his feet, gathered his coat from where it was hung up on a chair, and went out to the balcony that McCree was probably _ also _ sulking on.

“Hey,” he mumbled, hands stuffed in pockets.

McCree took a long drag and let the smoke curl out from his lips. “Hey.” He was leaned over the balcony railing, tapping his ashes into the snow many feet down, coat draped loosely over his bare shoulders without really being worn. He took another drag. “Sorry. I really don’t mean to be short with ya, I know this … Can’t be easy. Really, I get it.” 

“Yeah, I bet discovering the existence of humans was  _ really _ chilling.”

McCree shot him a look, an angry flare in his eyes that fizzled out as quickly as it came. He looked away and took another drag, deeper this time. He said nothing for a long, lingering moment. “Yep. Sure was tough findin’ out how many folks wanna mount my head on a wall.” 

Ouch, wrong button to press? Genji glanced aside as he came to lean on the railing beside him. “I didn’t mean it like that. But for the record, people have wanted my head since I was born, and I’m human head-to-toe. So I guess that’s something in common.”

McCree did manage a gentle, chuffing laugh at that. “I s’pose so. Y’know, you owe me one for lettin’ Church get away. An’  _ I  _ owe  _ you  _ one if you agree to keep my secret. So, why don’t we call it even?” 

Genji gave him a look. Not a hard look, but a look. “You killed a man in front of me.”

“Okay, so I owe you two. How can I make it up to ya?” 

O, lamented the prince, for this to be a casual conversation he was having at a club instead of what it was. His eyes shifted dully from McCree to the view of the parking lot below. Then, he held up his fingers. “Smoke.”

Jesse grabbed the box from his pocket and tapped one out, placing it between Genji’s fingers and leaning down to light it off of his own. Big brown puppy dog eyes flickered up to look at Genji from under his lashes as he did so. 

_ Shit _ .

Genji took the cigarette with a grateful nod, and pulled a drag of his own off into the winter air. His voice was barely audible when he said, “Guess that makes it even, now.”

“Guess so.” McCree put the butt of his cigarette out against the metal railing and stepped away, looking back into the dingy hotel. “D’ya have anymore questions?” 

Quietly, Genji watched the snow. It appeared from the heavens, descending into the city light. Popped into existence like fireflies, and gently coated the cars and cement below. It was a strange moment of peace to have. After everything.  _ Considering _ everything. He took another puff.

“How old are you?” He asked.

“Twenty-six.” McCree slipped back inside but left the sliding door open so Genji could still hear him. “Goin’ on twenty-seven this summer.” 

“When did you arrive in Hanamura?”

“Just about three weeks ago.” 

Genji stubbed out his own cigarette and made his way back inside. The warmth of the room wrapped around him pleasantly. McCree was digging through his bags, pulling out clothes and a package of toiletries. That made sense. He looked in need of washing up. “Do you like it here?”

“It’s nice enough,” McCree shrugged. “Cold for my tastes. Pretty though, an’ the food’s good. I’d probably like it better in the spring.” 

“Where are you from?”

“America – New Mexico, specifically. Switzerland, more recently.” McCree headed for the bathroom, and Genji repositioned himself in the room to sit with a view of the mirror. McCree turned the water on, probably letting it heat up as he carefully peeled the bandage off his chest. 

“What’s your favorite color?”

“My favorite color.” McCree chuckled at that. “You’re askin’ pointless questions now. But it’s red.” He poked at the wound on his shoulder, wincing a little as he did. It wasn’t bleeding anymore, though it was still open and raw looking, the skin around it red with irritation. “Lemme guess, yours is green?” 

“Well, shit, this isn’t  _ your _ questions game, now is it?” 

“Guess not.” McCree came to lean in the doorway, smirking. “As much fun as we’re havin’, I need to shower. Now, you can either, I dunno, flip through the holovid channels ‘til I’m done or call a cab, but either way, any more questions are gonna have to wait.” 

Genji placed a pout on his lips. “You aren’t even going to invite me in? So much for Southern hospitality.”

McCree laughed, and it was quite unlike the quiet huffs of laughter he’d given so far in the evening. It was loud and full, pleasant to listen to, his lips splitting into a big grin. “I prefer to take a fella out to dinner first,  _ darlin’ _ .” 

Genji winked, giving a knowing smile, and that was that.

It didn’t take long before McCree was rejoining the prince, looking like an entirely new man. His bloodied uniform had been discarded, replaced with pajamas. His skin had been scrubbed clean. His dark curls were tied up into a charmingly messy bun. He looked … Domestic. And exhausted. 

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” he said as he laid his gun carefully on the bedside table and came to sit. “I was expectin’ you’d skedaddle right as soon as you could.” 

“I expected myself to ‘skedaddle’, as well,” Genji replied, sitting cross-legged by now on the cheap armchair. He looked as tired as McCree, as though he’d been the one shot and transformed several times in one night. It sure felt like he had. The coasting he’d been doing was rather abruptly halted, afterall. “But I don’t have anywhere else to be, so…”

McCree’s eyebrows twitched, just this smallest little bit. Something like surprise, subtle and quickly pushed away. He looked down to trace his finger against the comforter. “You can use the shower if you want.” 

“I bathe in the mornings. Unless you’re saying I stink.”

“Actually, you smell really nice.” Pause. “Not in a weird way. Just – I think it’s your shampoo? It smells like flowers. I can smell it from over here.” 

Subconsciously, Genji lifted his collar and sniffed it. Was it his soap? He hummed, flattening it back down. “Your sense of smell must be something else.”

“Wolf does come with its perks,” McCree said with a small nod. “That much is the same as the movies. Better smell. Hearin’. Strength. An’ I heal quicker, too. I ain’t sure those quite outweigh the whole …  _ Wolf  _ situation as a whole, but, y’know.” 

“How long are you going to be here?” Genji asked. “In Hanamura?”

McCree reached for the remote to flip through the channels on the holoscreen, ignoring  Genji’s question for the briefest of moments as he settled it on a late night rerun of the local news. “Not much longer. Church will probably be leavin’ the country, so I’ve gotta head back to base an’ regroup.” 

Odd that it should make Genji’s stomach drop in disappointment. So he wouldn’t see the weird monster man that unnecessarily complicated his life again. Why should that be such a shame? Genji did what he did best and let his face betray nothing, simply nodded, and pushed himself up from his seat. “It’s too bad that you couldn’t have seen Hanamura for a better reason. My home deserves better.”

“I never get to travel for fun,” McCree said with a soft chuckle, eyes still on the screen. “I’ve been to almost every continent and a few dozen major cities, an’ every single one a’ them save for L.A. has been for business. You fly in, you get the job done – or not, in this case – an’ you fly out. No time for fun.” 

Genji placed himself in front of the monitor, arms crossed. “Sure, but forget those stupid places, I’m talking about my  _ home. _ The best city in the world.”

The look that crossed McCree’s face was pure amusement, golden twinkle in his eyes and all. “Alright. Your home.” He clicked off the holoscreen and scooted to the foot of the bed, closer to Genji. “So what makes it so special?” 

“Other than how beautiful it is and our delicious food and the nightlife and the boring ‘rich history’?” Genji lifted his hands, gesturing toward his whole self while giving a smile. “I live here.”

“I have to assume no one’s ever accused you a’ modesty.” McCree’s tone was light. Teasing. The smirk on his face melting into something more genuine as he looked up at the prince. It made his cheeks heat up, perhaps for the first time in a long time, and he stuffed his showman hands into his coat pockets.

“Anyway, it’s too bad,” he said. “That’s all.”

“I’ll bet everyone loves you,” McCree said, and his warm tone contained no irony. It was a genuine observation. Nothing more or less. 

_ If only _ .

“Not everyone.”

“A lotta folks, then.” 

Genji didn’t say anything to that. Maybe it was true. Maybe he just wasn’t feeling it anymore. He let a little melancholy slip through the cracks of his failing tinpot armor, and he offered a shrug. “I should get going. Good luck with the rest of your missiony stuff. Hope you get that guy.”

“Get home safe, darlin’.” 

They were perhaps the nicest words Genji ever had for his own in a long, long time. They stirred in his heart a warmth, one he clutched so tightly. It made it so difficult to go. He wondered what other unexpected kindnesses he could keep if he stayed. But in the end, it was all he could do. He wrapped the warmth around himself like a blanket as he braced the cold, and he left.


	3. Prince Charming

Jesse woke with the sun. The ceiling of the hotel room stared back at him as he lay in bed, blank and featureless, offering nothing. His shoulder pulsed with an aching throb, all scabbed over now but still not completely healed. It would be a day or two before he was back to 100% – longer, actually. Angela would have to cut him open to fish that bullet out, so that was a whole extension to his recovery time. 

He’d screwed this whole thing up so badly. He’d made it through damage control, at the very least, but the failure of Church getting away still writhed in his guts. They’d catch him. They would. They owed it to the agents and their families whose deaths he’d funded. They’d catch him. He’d pay. Jesse’s stomach squirmed uncomfortably at the alternative. 

But still, he got out of bed. That was a triumph for the mood he was in and the ache in his muscles, and it was a triumph for how Wolf kept pawing restlessly at the back of his mind. 

Somehow, he didn’t look as bad as he felt. He’d gotten a shower and a full night’s sleep and he looked it, which was some small blessing. Needed a shave though, and needed something to think about other than the guilty failure gnawing at his bones. As he dragged the razor against his skin, he wondered how Genji Shimada was doing.

He’d been short with him the night before, he knew that, and he regretted it now. Nothing that had happened had been his fault. Jesse couldn’t really cast judgment on any of the reactions he’d had; they were all perfectly reasonable reactions when you considered the context. More than that though, it could have all been so much worse if Shimada hadn’t been reasonable after the fact. Snarky and and frustrating, sure, but reasonable enough. 

Though it was all said and done, and it was unlikely he’d ever run into him again after he left Hanamura shortly, Jesse couldn’t stop his mind from dwelling on the sweet prince with the soft eyes and the sad tenor in his voice. He felt like the kind of person someone could grow attached to all too easily, and at the same time the kind of person who wouldn’t grow attached at all to someone else. Jesse wondered if being raised a yakuza prince was anything like being raised a gang member. Maybe they had that in common. 

Or maybe he was just reading too much into it. Projecting. He shrugged on his jacket and headed out from the lobby, intent on getting something to eat from the convenience store on the corner before he did anything else. 

His walk stopped short when he saw Genji Shimada standing in the hotel parking lot. Jesse blinked. “Hello?” 

The greeting seemed to very nearly startle Shimada out of his skin. He looked immediately unsure, alert, like he was right about to flee at that moment. But quickly after his face returned to that closedness it often had the night before, fashioned with that picture-perfect grin. “Hey. Fancy seeing you outside of your own hotel.”

“Are you stalkin’ me, Shimada?” Jesse asked with a grin as he leaned against a car. The car did not appreciate the attempt at a smooth move. It began to screech out its alarm, and Jesse jumped back in surprise. Whoops. 

It made Shimada laugh, at least, and he held his scarf up a little as he did. “Come on, before you get jumped by the owner. I have one more question to ask.”

He scurried after him out of the parking lot, over out of view of whoever the owner was. Only when they could no longer hear the ringing did Jesse ask, “What’s the question?”

“Do you like cake?” 

“That depends on the kind of cake.” 

Shimada laughed again. “You can  _ choose _ the kind of cake.”

Jesse’s lips turned upwards into a teasing grin. “Are you invitin’ me out for cake, Shimada?” 

In return, Shimada’s smile twisted into a pout, that same painted-on pout he used before. “Not if you’re going to say it like that.” The grin popped back. “You said you will only be in Hanamura for a little while longer. I thought you might like a tour of the best places before you go!”

Something squirmed in Jesse’s chest. He’d been thinking about Shimada this morning, and, it seemed, Shimada had been thinking about him, too. “Alright, alright. I s’pose I can take some time before I head back. Should I go change?” He looked down at himself. Leather jacket over tank top. Sweats tucked into boots. Not exactly the most fashionable look, depending on where Shimada wanted to take him. 

Shimada gave a subtle little glance that Jesse still caught. Yup. He definitely noticed the pajama-chic look going on. “Who are you trying to impress, cowboy?”

“No one, maybe I’m just tryin’ to not freeze my dick off, y’know?” 

“It’s fine, it’s useless, anyway. Come on, my favourite cake shop is just down this way!” Boldly, Shimada took Jesse’s hand and tugged him off toward a row of brightly-coloured shops along the street. It seemed like a shopping district of Hanamura, the kind of place young people would hang out around, congregating just because. The building that the eager prince seemed to have his sights set on in particular had a soft pink exterior and a French sign, with several cartoonish illustrations of food dancing across the windows.

“Cake for breakfast?” Jesse asked with a grin. “And here I was about to go get a convenience store sandwich.” 

“That was when you thought you were still here for work. Now you’re here for play!”

Play indeed. Jesse took in the sight of the cafe, smiling to himself as he did. It was cute. Adorable, really. Was this the kind of place Shimada liked to frequent? His eyes flickered over to the prince dragging him along down the street. How strange. Just from what he’d heard in the briefing, he would have expected Shimada to be brooding and serious. Not the kind of man who’d take him to a sweet little French bakery for breakfast. Not that he was complaining. 

“So what other fun do you have planned today, darlin’?” 

“That would depend on what you like.” Shimada took them into the line, letting go of Jesse’s hand in the process. Jesse quickly bit back the urge to reach out and take it again. The warmth and weight in the palm of his hand had been nice. 

“I ain’t particular,” Jesse hummed. “I like movies. An’ goin’ for walks. I’ll probably enjoy lookin’ around the city.” The bakery smelled like heaven, like delicate sweets and fresh bread. “Is their coffee good?” 

In response, Shimada shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe if you have it black? I think having matcha with sweets is much better. Nothing goes with sugar like bitter!” He stepped out of line to go to one of the display cases, kneeling to ogle the rainbow of macarons and tiny cakes that they had to offer. “Ooh, I don’t know what I want! Last time I had the strawberry shortcake and it was so good. What do you think? Actually, no, no, I want the tiramisu! That would basically be breakfast, right?”

He looked over at Jesse with a big smile. Jesse felt his heart go  _ ba-thump _ . God almighty. Shimada looked like a kid in a candy shop, and it was  _ precious _ . There was nothing he could do but nod quickly in agreement, “Right. Breakfast. That sounds perfect.” 

“Okay!” When it came their time to order, Shimada chipperly hopped up, speaking to the clerk in Japanese to presumably place an order. The girl obliged, and the two had friendly chit-chat while she plated their breakfast-desserts. It seemed like Shimada was either a regular in this shop, or just known throughout the city. 

“Can you order me a black coffee?” Jesse asked, peering over Shimada’s shoulder as he ordered their food. “I don’t really drink green tea.” 

It had the prince looking up at him with a judgy little smirk. “You don’t speak any Japanese?”

“I speak enough.” 

“Then order your own. Go on.”

Jesse hesitated. He knew how to say hello, goodbye, please, thank you, and ‘where’s the bathroom?’ in Japanese. He did not know how to ask for a black coffee. He looked at Shimada - “I speak four languages but Japanese ain’t one a’ them.” 

“Ahh, a _ liar _ , then!” Shimada giggled, turning to the girl once again. He said something that made her giggle the same way, sparing Jesse a little glance before turning to dispense a hot coffee into a styrofoam cup. Jesse couldn’t help how a slight pinkness rose in his cheeks at their giggling. Shimada took his own items and nodded his head. “Come on, this way is my favorite seat.” 

He didn’t seem terribly worried about paying. And neither did the clerk, welcoming the next person in line with a smile, so Jesse didn’t worry about it, either. He wasn’t about to turn down a free breakfast, after all. “So,” Jesse began as he set his cake and coffee down. “Can I ask what brought you to my hotel parkin’ lot this mornin’, or is it a secret?” Maybe he was leading the conversation. Maybe he wanted Shimada to say he’d been thinking about him so he could say he’d been thinking about him, too. God. Wasn’t he a little old for crushes? 

Instead, Shimada laughed. “What do you mean? It was a complete coincidence!” Oh yeah, Jesse definitely bought that. Shimada used the tiny cake spoon to scoop some of his tiramisu, smiling as he ate it and adding, “I own this city, cowboy.”

“I’m aware,” he said, leaning in a bit as he took a scoop of his own cake. “I heard all about your family in my briefing.” His tone dropped, low and secretive. “You’ve got this city wrapped around your lil finger, don’t’cha?” 

Shimada let the spoon’s curve fit his lip in a very particular gesture, his head turned just a little bit away, just  _ enough _ away, but he still smiled at Jesse from under his long eyelashes. It was all so perfected and practiced, and it made Jesse’s heart flutter. Just as intended, surely. His tone matched Jesse’s when he replied, “Of course I do. And everyone in it.”

“Includin’ visitors?” He murmured, speaking so softly, the conversation for no one but the two of them. 

With another spoonful of tiramisu, Shimada said, “That remains to be seen.” There was a brush against the side of Jesse’s knee that must have been his. “But it seems to be looking good.”

“I’m glad you seem to have moved past the whole ‘turns into a dog sometimes’ thing so quickly,” Jesse said, chuckling softly. “Really saves me the awkwardness I usually get on the third date.” 

Shimada simply gave a rather ambiguous hum to that, glancing away out of the window, his knee disappearing from Jesse’s touch. Whoops. Maybe he wasn’t quite as over it as he seemed. 

“D’ya come here a lot?” Jesse asked, trying to get the conversation rolling again. He sipped his coffee – not as strong as he usually liked, but good enough. “The girl at the register seemed like she knew you. Although, I s’pose everyone probably knows you. Least a lil bit.” 

“Of course. But I do like to frequent my favourite places.” Shimada lifted his tea and blew gently against the steam. “Cake is actually my favourite hangover food. It makes it nice to come here for mornings.”

“Really, cake?” Odd. If he was hungover, Jesse knew he’d need a lot more than a piece of cake. “I can’t do nothin’ except burgers when I’m hungover.” Rare – though he didn’t add that. Seemed like Shimada didn’t need a second reminder he was sitting across from a werewolf. But he did laugh.

“ _ American! _ ”

“Aw, ya caught me. I am indeed American. But hey, I’ll swear by it, nothin’ fixes a hangover like a greasy breakfast an’ a lil hair a’ the dog.” A greasy breakfast also made a great fix for a transformation-hangover. He could eat through a diner’s whole menu after a full moon, and he had. More than once. “Can I apologize?” 

“Some crimes can hardly be forgiven,” Shimada teased, his lip doing that thing again to the spoon, his knee doing that thing against Jesse’s knee. Jesse momentarily struggled to remember what they were even talking about. “But go ahead.”

“I wanna apologize for bein’ short with you last night. I was frustrated. I shouldn’t’a taken it out on you.” Jesse scratched his jaw, feeling a touch awkward but carrying on all the same. “You didn’t do anythin’ wrong. So … I’m sorry.” 

A small silence followed, and Jesse almost feared that Shimada would say nothing and pull his presence back again. Instead, he offered a smile. “You’re right. I didn’t. And honestly, I do _ love _ to hold grudges. Buuut… I will let you off the hook.”

Jesse didn’t know a smile could do that. Curve just so, just perfectly to make his ears burn. God. God, he was so gay. Even Wolf, who’d spent the better part of the morning pawing antsily at the back of his head, seemed to sit and perk up in interest. Jesse couldn’t speak to it, couldn’t hear it like he’d hear someone’s voice. But he got this nagging feeling that he was sure belonged to it –  _ excited _ . It showed in his eyes with a spark of gold, but he shook his head to clear it and looked out the window instead. 

“Why do I get the feelin’ you’d be bad for my health if I stayed in Hanamura too long?” He asked, tone playful and light. “I think you’re givin’ me heart palpitations as we speak, darlin’.” 

“Oh, no! You should have that checked out.” Even as Shimada said that, he seemed very pleased with himself. His leg distractingly kneaded against Jesse’s even still. “Good thing you won’t be around much longer, then, hm?”

Jesse’s eyes shifted back to Shimada’s and stayed there. “Pick-up’s gonna be here for me tomorrow mornin’, in fact.” 

“Pick-up, how fancy. You’re like a super special secret agent.”

“Well, I mean,  _ I am _ .” 

Fearlessly as before, Shimada reached and took Jesse’s wrist. He rolled up his sleeve just a little and let out a disappointed hum. Jesse had to raise an eyebrow at that. “What’re you doin’?” 

“You don’t have a watch that has a built-in laser beam weapon. You’re not a very good super special secret agent.” He let go, and Jesse laughed – perhaps a little too loudly for the adorable French cafe. They attracted a few (quickly averted) looks. 

“No,” he agreed. “I don’t have that. But I do go undercover sometimes.” 

“ _ Really? _ Like what? Have you honeypotted some wealthy kingpin?” The look Shimada gave now could only be described as  _ impish. _

Jesse elected not to answer that. He thought it more effective to just smile – no, smirk was probably more appropriate. Smirk, wink, and turn his attention back to his tiramisu. 

It was perhaps one of the nicest dates – if you wanted to call it that – Jesse had been on in a long time. The Shimada grand tour of Hanamura consisted of what were apparently ‘all the most fun places in the city’, and Jesse was more than happy to let himself be dragged around all day if it meant that pleasant weight and warmth in his hand. 

He took them in and out of shops, all of which seemed to have his credit chip on file since he never once took it out. He demanded they get lunch at the Rikimaru ramen shop, specifically so he could show Jesse the big, fancy gates that separated his family’s estate from the rest of Hanamura. They eventually wound up at an arcade, where Jesse fumbled his way through a couple rounds of DDR (much to Shimada’s teasing, giggling delight) and watched his companion for the day wreck his own high scores on several of the games. 

It was all very … Childish, but not in a bad way. Running around all day, laughing and chatting and holding hands, spending the afternoon hanging around the arcade, it felt like the kind of day Jesse might have had if he’d ever gotten to do things like this as a teenager. It was refreshingly simple, and he hardly even noticed the day waning until they exited the arcade only to be bathed in the pale glow of the moon. Night had fallen over Hanamura, and the city was alight with neon signs and the shine of streetlamps. 

“Shit, is it that late already?” Jesse asked, tugging out his phone to check. “I s’pose I should probably be gettin’ back to my hotel.” 

“Early morning, I expect?” Shimada said, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat.

“Early as hell. Honestly, I should probably already be in bed.” If Shimada looked handsome by day, there was something even more becoming about him lit by the glow of a city at night. The technicolor lights of the entertainment district of Hanamura made him look like a still from a movie or some ethereal oil painting. If this were a book, like it felt like it was, this would be the moment Jesse put a hand on his back and pulled him in for a parting kiss. Jesse touched his waist. “This was fun.” 

“It sounded like you could use some fun in your life,” Shimada said. His body responded to the touch by turning just a little.

“You’re a peach, you know that?” He chuckled. The fingertips on Shimada’s waist dared to slide forward, his palm warmly molding itself against the curve of his side. “Maybe we could do this again sometime? If I’m ever in town. I’ll be sure to get my heart palpitations checked first.” 

It was snowing. Jesse felt the cold through the light loungewear he’d spent the day in, though his jacket warded off the worst of it. He reached his free hand up, thumb brushing a speck of snow from Shimada’s cheek and lingering there on his jaw. It made… something slip through the cracks of Shimada’s unreadable presence. Something that heated his skin underneath the gentle touch.

It lasted just a moment. 

Shimada reached up a hand, catching Jesse’s chin between a curled finger and a thumb. “Why don’t you get home safe, cowboy?”

And then it was over. The prince was turning away from him, escaping his reach. It was only his back that was visible to Jesse as he walked through the neon lighting towards his castle.

If this were a book, Jesse thought to himself again, he would have reached out to grab Shimada’s wrist in a gentle, wanting grasp. He would have said ‘wait, don’t go’, and Shimada would have turned back to him with that perfect smile. He would have wrapped his arms around Jesse’s neck to make him bend, and their lips would have met in a pleasant, heated press. Their kiss, like their meeting, would have been unforeseen but serendipitous, and one of them would have slipped their phone number into the other one’s pocket and whispered in their ear, sweetly,  _ “Call me.” _

But this wasn’t a book. And none of those things happened. 

Instead, Jesse watched Shimada’s back retreat towards the gates of his castle while Jesse stood there with snow in his hair and a flaming tightness in his heart. He remembered his thought from that morning, how he knew he probably wouldn’t see Shimada again after he left Hanamura. This time the idea ached bitterly in time with Jesse’s musing opinion of the prince – that he seemed like someone a person could grow attached to much too easily. 

He chuckled to himself and called out, “Hey! I guess I was right when I said everyone ‘round here probably loves you, huh? It makes sense.” He tipped a little two finger salute towards Shimada in farewell, then turned on his heel and it was back to his hotel room with him. 

As sweet as it would have been to say he had something more than a fleeting moment with Shimada, that just wasn't the case. That flutter in his chest, the burning in his ears, they were nothing more than petty wants and daydreams, and when the transport arrived the next morning to take him back to HQ, he was right on time hopping aboard.

 

Genji Shimada, and all the daydreams they could have played out together, slipped from Jesse’s mind nearly the moment he’d made it back into Zürich. The base, with its familiar, comforting sights and sounds and smells, had Wolf retreating off to curl up and leave Jesse alone for the first time in a while. It always got riled up on missions, never liked being away from its ‘pack’. 

As per usual after a mission, once he’d dropped his travel bag back in his dorm, he headed out of the residential compound and off towards the Blackwatch offices to do his debrief with Gabriel. 

“Well, the good news,” the commander began immediately as Jesse entered his office, “Is that we have an idea of where Church might have gone off to.”

“I’m guessin’ there’s some kinda bad news to go with that.” Jesse nudged one of the chairs out with his foot and dropped himself into it, kicking his boots up on the edge of Gabriel’s desk and settling in. They were immediately shoved off onto the floor by an invisible force with a careless wave of Gabriel’s hand. 

“Feet off the desk, Jesse. And yes, unfortunately. We know, technically, where Church is. Probably. The problem is that ‘where’ is a fucking guarded bunker. Evidently Talon’s not too keen on the idea of one of their benefactors being assassinated.” Gabriel leaned back in his chair with a sigh and reached a hand up to tiredly rub his temples. 

“So? What are we gonna do?” Jesse prompted. 

“For right now? Just monitor. It’d be a waste of too many resources trying to break in there to get at him, and there’d be too good a chance of him slipping through our fingers again. So, we lay low until Church feels safe enough to come out, and  _ then _ that’s when we move.” 

Jesse almost,  _ almost  _ wanted to argue. He felt that same guilty anger squirm in his belly, but he took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. Gabriel was right. It would just be a painful waste if they committed themselves to going after Church when he was in hiding, so they needed to be patient. As frustrating as that was for Jesse – and for Gabriel, no doubt. 

“Now, what about the other situation in Hanamura? Did you get that under control?” 

“Huh?” Jesse blinked as Gabriel’s question tugged him out of his thoughts, forcing him back into the moment. 

“The issue with Genji Shimada. Did you come to any kind of agreement with him?” 

“Oh, yeah. It’s fine, Shimada won’t be an issue. Honestly, he probably just wants to forget about the whole thing.” 

“Good.” Gabriel rose from his chair and walked around to the other side to lean against the edge of it, all the while flicking his wrist to summon a small pile of paperwork across the room and into Jesse’s lap. Post-mission report, as per usual. “Try to get that back to me soon. But go see Angela first.” 

Eugh. Jesse hated getting bullets dug out. Not as much as he hated getting shot, of course, but his shoulder was close to better and now they had to open him back up. His scowl made Gabriel chuckle. 

“Don’t pout. Go get fixed up and I’ll give you a pass on training today.” Jesse rolled his eyes. You always got the day off to recuperate when you came back from a mission. Though, he wouldn’t have put it past Gabriel to want to run drills with him today regardless. 

“Will do, boss. Dinner later?” 

“You bet. Now I gotta get to a meeting with Morrison. I’ll see you later.” He stepped towards the door, though he stopped next to Jesse’s chair to reach and ruffle his fingers through his hair. “Good to have you home, son. Now go rest up. And Jesse?” 

“Yeah?” Jesse pushed himself up to follow Gabriel out. 

“You did your best, kid. We’ll get another shot.” 


	4. The Nest

“What have you done to yourself _now?_ ”

It was a fair question. _Usually_ when Jesse turned up to the med bay, the cause was obvious. Like the time he’d wandered in with his hand all ripped to shreds after Wolf decided to pick a fight with a bear. Bear teeth could do a lot to a wolf paw and none of it meant good things when that wolf paw turned back into a human hand. So he was sure he looked suspicious, sitting on Angela’s examination table with nothing apparently wrong.

“I got shot,” he told her, tapping his finger against his freshly healed shoulder. Nothing but a small, pink scar remained to show for it. “I tried to pull it out but I was kinda preoccupied an’ by the time I got around to workin’ on it, it was already all covered up. I need it taken out.” This wasn’t the first time this had happened, but it was a bit rare. Jesse was usually more careful about picking bullets out as soon as possible. In this case though, he was rather distracted by damage control, and he didn’t think Genji would have appreciated it if he’d started trying to dig a bullet out during the trip back to the hotel.

Angela seemed to suppress a sigh, fingers reaching to rub the bridge underneath her glasses. It always took her a moment to cope when someone showed up with a combat injury, Jesse knew it well. “Well,” she said. “I’m glad you came to me, at least, instead of my hearing about it from Gabriel and chasing you down.”

“Well, to be fair, he did tell me to come down here,” Jesse said. “But I was gonna come anyway! Cross my heart.” He traced his finger in an ‘X’ over his chest. “When I had the time.”

He received little more than a derisive huff from Angela as she flicked her wrist and summoned a scalpel from thin air. “Alright, let’s get this done with quickly. Should I lecture you about being more careful before or after I have you strapped to my table?”

“I _was_ bein’ careful. Ain’t my fault they happened to be better shots than me.” He huffed and reached back to rub the back of his neck. “Pissed Wolf right off.”

“Better shots than _you?_ What happened to your classic McCree confidence?” She had him lie back after pulling up a sterile sheet and setting on the biotic field generator hooked just above. Jesse felt a soothing numbness wash over him.

“No, that’s true. _Not_ better shots than me. Just better shots than I expected them to be.” He tipped his head back against the exam table with a sigh. Nothing like a biotic field generator. The thing was a godsend for the transformation aches after a rough moon. “I don’t think it hit anythin’ important, so you shouldn’t have to do any rearrangin’.” By far the worst thing was when Jesse’s body healed something too quickly and in the wrong way. His bones realigned themselves once a month anyway, he didn’t need it happening in a doctor’s office, too.

Angela set upon delicately and professionally popping Jesse open to collect that bullet from his shoulder, and wrapping him up in gauze and bandage, since it was largely useless to stitch him closed. The two of them discovered that together throughout the years. It also took a little of the doctor’s own magic to keep him from self-healing during the one or two major surgeries he’s had to have.

When it was all over, Angela vanished the used instruments and discarded her gloves. “There, not so bad. To tell you the truth, for something this small, I _would_ rather you wait for me to deal with it, rather than introduce all sorts of potential infections to your body. Even –” She held up a hand before Jesse could argue, “If you’re certain you and Wolf would be fine.”

Jesse knew this kind of procedure well by now. The biotic field numbed him well enough that it was little more than a pinch as Angela opened his shoulder up to pluck the bullet out. Took only minutes, and with the field combined with his own natural healing abilities, his flesh was already beginning to mend itself by the time Angela vanished her instruments.

“Y’know, I ain’t always got a choice in the matter,” he pointed out. “Wolf hates bullets. If it wants one out …” That had been one of the worse injuries he’d turned up to the med bay with, leg all ripped open after his wolf carelessly tried to pick a bullet out of their leg. With its teeth. He chuckled. “You’re lucky it ain’t close to a full moon an’ you’re doubly lucky its teeth can’t reach that spot.”

Once again, his joke only brought concern from Angela. But rather than another lecture, she crossed her arms with a sigh. “How was the rest of your mission, at least?”

Jesse chewed his lip as he thought on that, trying to find the right words. In his silence, he sat up from the table and reached for the shirt he’d discarded before Angela’s arrival, shrugging it back on. “It was okay. My target got away, unfortunately. But if nothin’ else, I put the fear a’ God in ‘im. Also, I went on a date, I think.”

“You _think?_ ”

“I think. With this guy. But maybe he was just stringin’ me along? I s’pose it doesn’t matter, not like we’ll see each other again.”

“Well. Were you… safe together?”

“Oh my God.” Jesse had to bury his face in his hands. “I don’t know, can you get an STI from unprotected hand holdin’!”

“Not… _realistically_. … I was just making sure! You are never the first to admit these things and I am your doctor first and friend second!”

“A’ course you are, _Dr. Ziegler_ . But I think I’m old enough to know what’s relevant to my friend and what's relevant to my doctor. And also what a condom is. Not that I needed one. And _actually_ , he was wearing gloves, so it wasn’t even …” He trailed off with a chuckle. “It was one date. We didn’t even kiss goodnight. It’s fine.” He reached out to ruffle her hair, mussing her ponytail. “Don’t ya think I’m a lil _too_ old for my doctor to still be tryin’ to give me the sex talk? Or is this just somethin’ you’re gonna do ‘til we’re forty?”

It was a regular occurance. Angela was hyper-concerned about everything to do with her patients’ health, especially if those patients were also friends. She’d lecture about anything, from smoking to safe sex. It did save Jesse’s ass once or twice when he was younger and didn’t know much better – no pun intended.

The ruffle made the doctor’s shoulders hunch, and Dr. Ziegler quickly looked much more like just Angela, giving even the slightest pout at her hair being disheveled.

“We will _never_ out-age _health and safety,_ Jesse. Especially when you continue to put those dirty things in your mouth!”

The corner of his lips turned up into a grin. “Hey now, Angie, I know you didn’t like my last boyfriend but that ain’t a very polite way to  talk about the fellas I date.”

“Jesse James _McCree!”_

“Yes, Angela Ziegler?”

“The _cigarettes!”_

He snickered. “Can I go yet?”

Angela affixed him a rather huffy glare, her office door swinging open with a gesture of her arm and point of her finger. “Yes, yes, _go._ And take that gutter of a mind with you!”

“I’ll see ya!” He hopped off the table and headed out, sure his shoulder would feel good as new in no time flat. And as the wound healed, so would the memories of Hanamura slip softly to vagueness in Jesse’s mind.

Months and months passed at Overwatch HQ. Jesse focused himself in on anything to do with Talon, and the Churches, specifically. It was definitely one of the more frustrating cases he’d ever worked on with Blackwatch – and it wasn’t even like he was the lead on it. He had other things to occupy his time, but none of them stuck in his brain like this did. Church needed to pay. Jesse wasn’t going to be satisfied by anything that happened to Talon until something specifically happened to Church, but man, when Gabriel said Church gone into hiding, he’d really meant it. For all they knew of Church’s location, that mattered very little when that location was a guarded bunker. It was like he knew they’d be on him the second he let himself be vulnerable, so he just … Didn’t. Jesse wondered how long a rat could stay in the dirt before it needed to come up for air.

Still, at the very least, things had cooled down with Talon. They hadn’t heard anything from them lately, which in the long term was worrying, because it meant they were probably up to something. Short term though? It was nice to take a breather, and time for Talon to plan was time for Blackwatch to plan in turn. They’d just have to be vigilant.

Intelligence gathering wasn’t _really_ part of his job, so he didn’t often get to be out in the field unless there was something specific for him to do. Usually, that suited him just fine. He preferred missions that were active; of course, he could do undercover work and spying, but he liked immediate results.

Downtime was maybe the most frustrating part of it all. There wasn’t anything to _actively_ do about the Talon issue right at that moment, and nothing else was on his roster for a good couple of weeks. Which meant catching up on paperwork, sorting through files, and a whole lot of training. The training he didn’t mind so much. Especially when it wasn’t lonely.

He laid on his belly up at the top of the sniper range, sights set on targets far below. Ana sat beside him with her own gun, supervising his practice and correcting any mistakes. Gabriel, who ardently refused anything that didn’t spray buckshot in a five foot radius, was not practicing with them, but he was lounging up on the range to keep them company. His tablet was balanced on his knees and a mug of coffee by his hip. Normally, he wouldn’t have been there, but he got cabin fever just the same as Jesse being cooped up in his office all the time. His endless stream of paperwork had not let up in the past weeks. The range was, at least, a more interesting – if much louder – place to work.

“How’s Fareeha?” Jesse asked without looking up from his gun. “Military must be keepin’ her busy, ain’t heard from her in a while.”

That caused a rustle in Ana, visible from the corner of Jesse’s eye. The brilliant blue wings that curled against her back often had that tick when the captain was the littlest bit irritated. “Avoiding my calls, I expect,” she answered.

“Jesus, still?” Jesse whistled a little, almost impressed. Everyone _knew_ Fareeha was angry at her mother for denying her the opportunity to join Overwatch, and _then_ there was that whole explosive argument about her dropping out of university to run off to join the military instead, but Jesse didn’t think she’d still be holding a grudge about it after three years. “That’s …” He trailed off, because he wasn’t really sure what to call it. More than rough, certainly.

Gabriel piped up with his own take. “That’s a two decade argument between two of the most stubborn people on the planet, Jesse,” he said. There was a beat, then he added, “Not to say I think you’re wrong, Amari.”

“I know you think I’m wrong, Gabriel,” Ana simply replied. This was indeed a long-standing argument, and not just between the Amaris. Many people thought that joining Overwatch was a privilege and honor, so why should Ana forbid it?

“Not to piss off the woman holding a gun that fires bullets the size of my head then,” he offered, jokingly. Gabriel, the other most stubborn person on the planet, had his own rather strong opinions about the whole situation. He’d voiced them before, that he thought Fareeha would be better off in Overwatch if she was going to run away to the military _anyway_ . But, he’d also said on more than one occasion, he wasn’t Fareeha’s father, so it wasn’t his place to argue with Ana about it. He still _did,_ though. “... All I’m saying is, it’s not like they’ve exactly got an entire section of the engineering department dedicated to glamours. I wouldn’t want to hear the questions she’d get if hers wore off before she expected it to and her squad could suddenly see a bigass pair of wings sticking out of her shirt.”

“Which is why she was in university instead, isn’t it? Jesse, stop holding your breath.”

“Sorry,” Jesse said, letting his tensed shoulders relax, a grin audible in his voice. “Wolfy an’ I just get a lil nervous when mommy an’ daddy start fighting.”

It made Ana laugh, ruffling the feathers along the nape of her neck, and she pulled back a little from her scope. “Should we kick out the witch if he can’t keep to himself, then?”

“No, that’s okay. You know it gets clingy before full moons, anyway.” Less than a week off. Jesse wasn’t really feeling the effects just yet – the only real sign of the encroaching lunar event was his glimmering gold eyes – but shortly enough he’d be needing his glamour if he wanted to go into town for whatever reason.

Gabriel chuckled. “I’ll drop the subject. Last thing we need is Pup freaking out and finding himself at the top of the sniper range.”

There was a pause, then a bang, and a target fell on the range below. “Hell, that almost happened the first time Ana brought me up here.” His eyes shifted over towards the captain. “Remember? It started pitchin’ a fit and I threw my whole gun off the side of the platform?”

“How could I forget a skinny little wolf pup rattling around on my perch?” She teased in return. “I remember it as vividly as every time he chased after my tailfeathers.”

Jesse peered down his scope again. “Yeah, well, you’re its favorite.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry, boss. You know how it is. Wolf likes to cozy up to the alpha of the pack, _obviously_.” His lips were quirked into a grin, tone gently antagonizing. “Second in the ladder is almost as good, if it helps.”

“Sucking up won’t improve your aim, Jesse,” Ana chided, though her tone spoke of her smile.

“My aim ain’t in need of improvement.” He chuckled.

“No? Then go on, three shots and three kills. Show me.”

She’d never let him get away with gloating, would she? She was the pin to his ego’s balloon. “Alright, I will,” he said, tipping his head to one side, then the other to crack his neck before looking back down his scope.

Bang! One.

Bang! Two.

Bang! Miss.

Jesse groaned.

Ana hummed. “No arrogance on my perch, habibi.”

Gabriel grinned. “A big head will get you nowhere,” he teased.

“I dunno, worked out pretty good for you.”

“You’re a hell of a smartass today, huh?”

Jesse pushed himself up into a sit and scooted over to a different part of the perch to prop his gun up on a small wall. He found it a little more natural to shoot sitting up. It felt just that slightest bit more like what he was used to doing.

“How about,” he began. “If I can shoot the target farthest in the back right in the middle, Gabe buys us both lunch?”

Ana sat up shortly after Jesse, setting her own beloved rifle aside to glance between Jesse and Gabriel. Honestly, Jesse knew, she didn’t even need her scope to see as far as his shot. The benefit of her ‘eagle’ eyes. “Mm, I think that sounds like a plan. I’m in the mood for something expensive.”

“Do I get a say in this?” Gabriel asked. Jesse didn’t have to look over to know he had his arms crossed.

“You do not,” Jesse said with Ana in unison as he lined his shot up. He breathed, slow and deep, and focused in on his target. Just like Ana taught him. Just like he’d done plenty of times before.

Bang!

“Hell yeah!”

In response, Ana said something quite pleased in Arabic that Jesse knew to be praise. “We might make a proper sniper of you yet. Gabriel, you’ll be handing over my glamour now.”

“Yeah, yeah, c’mere.” Gabriel set his tablet to the side and threw back the rest of his coffee, then scooted over to sit with Ana. He unhooked the dog tags hanging around his neck and held them in his hands, his palms glowing with a warm light as he mumbled the spell. He twirled his finger in the air, an indication for Ana to turn her back to him, then gathered her hair in one hand to lift it up and out of the way so he could clasp the chain at the nape of her neck. He leaned in to brush his lips in a gentle kiss against the same spot when the necklace was secure. “There you go,” he said, running his hand down her back. “Wings and fluffy tail feathers successfully vanished.”

“Always the drama queen,” Ana sighed. Though from where Jesse was, he could see her grin. Gabriel smiled at her, all warm, lovey-dovey puppy dog eyes. Jesse rolled his eyes. It didn’t nauseate him like it did when he was a dramatic teenager, but _God_.

“C’mon y’all, enough a’ makin’ googly eyes at each other. I’m starvin’.”

“You know, kid,” Gabriel said, giving Jesse a playful little slap to the shoulder as he headed out past him. “You’ll be making googly eyes at someone someday too, and when that day comes, you’ll look back at this.”

“Please. I ain’t sayin’ I’ll never fall in love, but I’m never gonna be like y’all three,” Jesse said, rolling his eyes once again as he fell into step to follow the two of them off the range. “Fuckin’ high school drama club. I can’t catch a break. It’d be bad enough if you had _one_ partner, but I gotta get double the stupid mushy shit ‘cause a’ you an’ Morrison. Ain’t there some rule in the employee handbook about PDA in the workplace?”

Gabriel had to laugh at that. “You’re one to call us dramatic! We’re not _that_ bad.”

“Besides,” Ana said, unbothered. “It’s mostly Gabriel, anyway. Don’t blame me.”

 

Lunch was a success. The expensive cafes in town were always kind of busy, but going at a weird time in the middle of the day certainly helped a bit. Jesse indulged in expensive coffee and a sweet little strawberry shortcake, and the atmosphere felt … Charming, in an odd way. It was a French style cafe. Jesse was fairly certain he’d never been there before. But the smell of sugar and flour in the air had Wolf perking up in the back of his mind. Jesse wasn’t sure why. Wolf didn’t even like sugar.

Gabriel picked up the tab without complaint, though he did shoot Jesse quite the look as they were heading out. Jesse just grinned and shrugged. It wasn’t like Gabriel had anything else to spend his money on.

The peace did not last.

Nearly the moment they stepped back onto the Overwatch base, a young man Jesse recognized as one of the nurses from the med bay came running up to them with a look of utter relief on his face. He needed a moment to stand with his hands on his knees and catch his breath, but when he stood straight again, he started speaking immediately.

“Commander Reyes!” He was local, thick Swiss accent thicker with his evident worry. “I have been looking everywhere for you! You’re needed in the med bay, _urgently_!”

Looks like downtime was over.

Jesse perked up, intrigued, but said urgency seemed not to ruffle Gabriel’s feathers. “Urgently, huh? Well, would you like to tell me why the matter is so urgent?”

“I don’t know the details,” he said, nervously wringing his hands “Only that Commander Morrison is in the med bay with Dr. Ziegler and they both need to speak to you about one of the patients. Commander Morrison told me you’d be in your office, but I looked and you weren’t there and I didn’t know how to reach you but I didn’t want to go back to the med bay empty handed and –” He cut himself off as Gabriel raised a hand to stop his anxious rambling.

“Alright, alright! Let’s see what’s going on.” He bid farewell to Ana with a little nod and a touch of his hand to her arm. Then he was off, jogging along with the nurse to see what the hell was going on in the med bay. Wolf scratched at Jesse’s brain in anticipation. Jesse had not been dismissed or given a farewell – did Gabriel expect him to come along? Well, he hadn’t been told not to, so of course he was going to.

“Do you know _why_ they need to speak to me about a patient? I’m not a doctor.” Gabriel sounded more confused than anything.

“No, sir. All I know is that the patient was brought in last night. Dr. Ziegler’s been working on them since then.” Gabriel pulled a face at that, a grimace of sympathy. Jesse’s eyebrows scrunched together in thought. If she’d pulled an all-nighter over whatever this was, it must have been _bad_.

They entered the med bay, and as the doors swung open, the scent of blood hit Jesse’s nose with a metallic bite. The place had never smelled so miserable before. Jesse’s golden eyes snapped curiously here and there, until they landed on a haggard looking Angela standing at the end of a hall with Morrison. Relief swept over both their faces when they saw that Gabriel had finally arrived.

“Gabriel,” Angela greeted with an exhale.

“There you are,” Morrison said, ruffling a hand through his hair. “We need your help.”

“Can one of you two explain to me exactly what’s going on?” Gabriel asked. Jesse peeked around Gabriel’s body to peer down the hallway Angela and Morrison were standing at the end of. Something itched at the back of his head, and he had to bite Wolf’s whine from rising in his throat. He didn’t know what was going on, but it clearly had an idea of it. Without thinking, Jesse began to wander down the hall. Gabriel’s hand on the back of his jacket collar pulled him back to where he was.

“What is Jesse –” Angela shook her head. “Oh, it doesn’t matter now. I can’t exactly explain to you what’s happening, Gabriel, because I don’t understand it very well myself. I have, for all intents and purposes, a dead man in my ICU. There is no medical explanation I could find for how he lives.”

“You need magical advice then?” Angela was a fine witch, but she’d never put as much stock in magic as she did science. Jesse had really only ever seen her use it for menial tasks, whereas Gabriel, on the other hand, had a whole family deeply entrenched in the arcane arts and stacks of spellbooks in his office. If you had an obscure magical question, he was probably the one on base to ask.

“Angie, who is it?” Jesse asked, peering once more around Gabriel’s body. “Wolf’s all –” Gabriel cut him off.

“Kid, your tail.” Jesse glanced back behind him. His tail (When had it popped out? He hadn’t even noticed.) was curled up at attention, fur all puffed up as it wagged slowly.

“Huh.”

Angela ignored Jesse and Wolf for the moment. “His body won’t let us operate. We need to understand what we’re dealing with. Otherwise, I-I don’t believe we’ll be able to help him.”

“What do you mean his body won’t let you operate?” Gabriel asked.

“There’s something… else. Something is preventing us from attempting any of our usual procedures for badly damaged persons. The magic I ordinarily use to operate on, say, Jesse’s body, doesn’t seem to work. I can scarcely describe more than that.”

The more Angela spoke, the more it became clear to Jesse just how in distress she was. After all, he supposed, she prided herself on having never lost a patient in her entire career. To have this one be the first would devastate her.

“Well,” Gabriel looked between Angela and Morrison. “Let’s take a look, see if I can’t figure it out. Do I need to put scrubs on or something?”

“If you would. Jesse, _out.”_

“But –”

“Nein! The only ‘butt’ is _yours_ out of my medical wing.”

Jesse huffed. His wolfish ears (Ugh! What was the damn fool beast so riled up about?) flicked down to either side of his head, but he nodded. “Fine. Good luck, you two.”

As Angela, Jack and Gabriel turned and headed toward the ICU, Angela held her clipboard up. “I believe you will be familiar with the patient’s reputation,” her voice carried through the hallway as she spoke to them. “His name is Genji Shimada.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Charlie:** So, a couple of housekeeping notes before we let you go! First of all, Namibulous and I both have kofi pages! If you like our content and want to throw either of us a little tip for the work we do, we'd be extremely appreciative! 
> 
> ko-fi.com/namibee  
> ko-fi.com/charlieash
> 
> I also taking writing commissions if you'd like to see more writing like this for a different pairing or in a different fandom! 
> 
> http://strikecommandergabriel.tumblr.com/tagged/the%20commission%20post
> 
> One other thing, a note on werewolf psychology because I'm kind of a sucker for the technical stuff like that. Jesse mentions in this chapter that Wolfy sees Ana as the 'alpha' of Overwatch. Werewolf packs tend to operate like actual wolf packs - i.e. no alphas or anything like that, just a familial structure. (Often found family and not always a found family of other werewolves, such as in Jesse's case with Overwatch, but sometimes werewolf parents and their biological kids too!) He was just making a joke here - Wolfy probably does see Ana as the leader of the pack, but 'alpha' is kind of an inaccurate descriptor. 
> 
> That said, if a bunch of werewolves are stuck together under more strenuous circumstances where they don't have a familial bond (something similar to the captive wolves involved in the studies that lead to the now mostly unused alpha/beta/omega pack structure theory), fighting to establish dominance and putting a hierarchical structure in place with an 'alpha' at the top isn't unusual. Not really relevant, since that isn't how Wolfy views his and Jesse's family within Overwatch, but I thought it might make an interesting lore note for those of you who like those!
> 
> and **Nami** says: i wuv genji


	5. Monster

It was difficult to hear. Anything. Vague hums and buzzes. Like the weight of an ocean pressed down onto his ears, muffling the world from him. And the waters didn’t just crush the sounds, but his eyes. They wouldn’t open. His entire body could scarcely move, locked up but so very numb.

Genji would be panicking, if he could. 

But he was so… tired. 

So… heavy.

He focused on the only thing he could still process; those sounds, those distant sounds. The more he tried, the more it seemed to clarify. If only a little. He could make out voices. He was certain they were voices.

One voice, feminine. Too quiet. Said something about being careful. About being prepared.

Another voice. Deep. Almost familiar. That one he could hear better. “ _ Jesus Christ. _ ”

That’s what Genji wanted to say. Well, not in those words, but the spirit of it. If only he could speak. When he tried, only pain erupted. The pain put an end to the voices. Did they feel it, too? Is that why they stopped? Hot, but cold, pain across the throat. At least that was a feeling. If he didn’t feel any feelings, he would go crazy. Could someone go crazy if they were dead? He swore he was dead.

The feminine voice was closer, he could tell, so he could hear it better.

“His body is fighting very hard to stay alive. At the moment, that seems to be all that’s keeping him here with us. That, and the…  _ something _ I told you about.”

Was Genji the He? He couldn’t tell.

There was another voice. Not-familiar. Even deeper. The not-familiar voice asked, “Any ideas, Gabriel?” 

“I’m … Not sure,” the almost-familiar voice (Gabriel…?) said. “I definitely feel magic. But the Shimadas aren’t magic users, as far as we’re aware.” (Hey, he was a Shimada! Neat.) The voice was closer, like it had moved in towards him. “But let’s assume there’s something we didn’t know. There’s a  _ few  _ things that could keep a mostly-dead magic user breathing.” 

Well, Genji guessed that they couldn’t be talking about him. He didn’t know magic. He didn’t know any magic ‘users’. He knew McCree. He knew one werewolf. He knew a man in an earpiece. That was all he knew. And right now, it was too hard to think about that stuff. He focused on listening, and idly wondering who they talked about.

“I did not sense any necrotic energy,” the feminine voice offered. “What else do you suggest?”

“The Shimadas are human,” the not-familiar voice said. “Don’t you think it makes more sense to look at some kind of outside force?” 

“No.” The almost-familiar voice sounded firm. “ _ Maybe  _ a spell was cast on him, but I know my spells and this doesn’t look like that. And like Angela said, it’s not necromancy. Angela, can you get someone to grab a couple books from my office? In the pile in the corner. The red one with the gold lettering on the front and the black one with the metal bindings on the spine.” 

“Yes, of course.”

There was a sharp sound that irritated what remained of Genji’s hearing. Hard, clack-clack-clack. Heels on a hard floor. He didn’t like it. But soon it was gone and done. There was no more feminine voice.

“What do you think?” The not-familiar voice asked. 

“I think whatever this is, it’s in our best interest to think of another solution.” The almost-familiar voice answered. “I doubt it’ll keep him going much longer, and if it’s stopping Angela from operating, she’s going to need a really quick solution when it wears off.” 

The not-familiar voice grunted. “Any suggestions?” 

“Eh … Maybe. But it’s not something I’d be comfortable suggesting for someone who isn’t conscious enough to have a say.” 

The clack-clacks came back. Genji cringed in his body-prison, waiting for it to soften as the feminine voice returned. “I had someone fetch them. For now, we have to think of immediate options. Our agents found his body about a couple days ago, May 5th. We don’t know how long this…  _ this _ will last.”

“Ideally I’d like to know what it  _ is _ that’s keeping him alive,” the almost-familiar voice said. “Can I touch him without hurting him? I want to give him a couple taps with my wand to get a better read on the energy.” 

“... Is it sterile?”

“ _ Can _ you sterilize wood?” 

“What if you bagged it?”

“That would work.” 

A few moments of quiet except a clunk or two on the floor that didn’t bother Genji as much as the clack-clacks did. But then came crinkling, probably of a bag like the feminine voice said. And then Genji… felt something. Something that wasn’t pain, and wasn’t a crushing ocean. It…  _ felt _ against his forehead. He knew that. The rest was too vague, a feeling that melded into the static.

There was a long pause, where none of the voices said anything. Then the almost-familiar voice made a noise – “Ah. Hm …” Another pause, then, finally, the voice spoke. “Well, the magic’s definitely coming from inside him. Not an outside spell. But I also don’t think it’s …  _ Him _ , exactly. I’m getting some kind of … It’s hard to describe. It’s … Bright, you know? Too bright. I’m not sure exactly what it is; I’ll need to check my books. For right now – Angela, do you have any good ideas of what to do when it wears off?” 

“Well, the unfortunate thing is with how damaged his body  _ is  _ – I mentioned I nearly have a corpse in my ICU. Anything we could do for him would have to be miracle work, and on an extraordinarily short timer. Beyond that, to even  _ attempt, _ it would cost more than the entire medical research budget. I’ve never seen anything like this – …”

The feminine voice was speaking quicker and quicker, becoming so hurried and anxious that it made Genji anxious. Or, it would have. But he still couldn’t muster the energy to care.

After a little pause, it continued, “The only reliable options I can think of now come not from medicine, but magic. But they are so… questionable. I don’t like them.”

“We might be on the same track,” the almost-familiar voice said. “I mean … Listen, I don’t like it. And we definitely can’t do it unless he’s awake to consent to it. But …” 

“I would need some time to find a way to rouse him,” the feminine voice said, almost too quiet to hear. “Oh, poor Genji…”

Genji?

Oh.

That was his name.

He decided that was too much listening and thinking for now. He let himself go back to the nothingness.

 

“Genji.”

Although he could still not open his eyes, Genji found his mind more able to grasp consciousness than before. If you could call what he was before conscious. He remembered… some voices talking. One of them was the one that woke him up now.   
“Genji, my name is Dr. Ziegler,” it said. Or, he supposed, she. “If you can hear my voice, would you wiggle your index finger for me, please?”

Easy. Not quite, actually. He focused a great deal to raise his finger upwards.

It seemed to be enough for Dr. Ziegler. She sounded pleased, even if she enunciated her words like a preschool teacher. “Wonderful. You are currently in Overwatch Headquarters. I want you to know that you are safe. I have someone with me. His name is Gabriel Reyes.”

“Genji.” It was the almost-familiar voice. “We’ve spoken very briefly before. Do you remember that?”

“One finger for yes, two fingers for no,” Dr. Ziegler told him.

So Genji raised his finger again. Of course he could remember. The man on the other end of the earpiece as he squished himself against Jesse McCree. It was hard to not remember a night like that. One that changed your entire perception of life. Genji could hardly forget a single detail for even a day since. It sent him to sleep at night, and woke him every morning.

“You’re hurt, but I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that. Do you know what the magic keeping you breathing is?” 

Magic? There wasn’t any  _ magic. _

He raised two fingers.

“That’s fine. It’s not really important right now. But we need to talk about how we’re going to fix this.” 

“We felt it was very important to include you in this conversation, Genji. Do you understand?”

There was a lot of things he didn’t understand.  _ Most  _ things he didn’t understand. Especially now. But there was nothing he could ask. Helpless, he just rose a finger so they would continue.

“See, things are pretty bad right now. And Dr. Ziegler says there’s not a lot we can do about it, medically speaking. Magically, on the other hand, well – did Jesse happen to tell you anything about vampires?”

_ Vampires? _

Suddenly, Genji was wary to continue with this ‘conversation’. Afraid, even. He tried to hide it, but there was only so much one could do with a hand and a broken body. His fingers shook quite visibly as he rose two.

“Well,” Gabriel sounded hesitant as he spoke. “Honestly, it’d do wonders. You wouldn’t have any scars you didn’t have before, you’d be able to walk and talk and see and hear just as well – honestly,  _ better  _ than you did before. But –” There was a pause, heavy with intent, and it was obvious Gabriel was considering. Genji’s whole hand shook now. “ _ But _ , that’s your humanity. You’d be alive, but you wouldn’t be human anymore. This wouldn’t make things how they were before,  _ everything  _ would be different. You’d need to drink blood to live, no human food. You wouldn’t be able to go out into sunlight. This can’t be something you take lightly. It’s not a good solution, I’ll tell you that much, but it’s the only one we’ve got.”

There was silence – and motionlessness from Genji, aside from the now-uncontrollable tremble in his working limb.

This was the choice? His humanity or his life?

What sort of sick options were those?!

Months ago, just  _ months, _ the idea of magic and myths were merely playful, something to make-believe, something to entertain. Movies, books, fairytales. Daydreams and games with friends. This couldn’t be real, it  _ couldn’t. _ It  _ wasn’t _ real, once. But then…

Then the door of that Talon boardroom swung open. 

Then a werewolf lunged into his life, gored a man before his eyes. Tore down all of his preconceptions without even giving him the choice. Without his consent, like so many things in his life. He couldn’t play pretend anymore. 

And now, finally, the ultimate non-decision!

He wished he could cry. He didn’t even know if he could.

Apparently the stretching silence and shaking concerned Dr. Ziegler. She made a gentle sound, much like a sigh, before saying, “Perhaps we should offer Genji some time to process before –”

Genji’s hand was raised at the wrist. No more trembling. And one single finger was raised.

Fine. If it was his humanity or his life, well. 

_ What did it even mean to be human anymore? _

“You would also be staying on base with us, at least for some time,” Gabriel said. “New vampires need a lot of babysitting. That’s non-negotiable.” 

Genji lowered his hand. For a moment, he didn’t move.

Concerned, Dr. Ziegler softly said, “Genji?”

He lifted his middle finger.

Seemingly in spite of himself, Gabriel barked out a laugh. “Hey! At least you’ve still got some moxie. Sorry, babysitting sounds condescending. Let’s say looking after. But it doesn’t really matter, that’s secondary. We can cross that bridge when we come to it. The important question is, are you  _ sure  _ about this, Genji?  _ Really _ sure? This isn’t something you can change your mind about after the fact.” 

The middle finger tucked back, and Genji’s index pointed up. He was sure. No, not sure, he didn’t have a choice.

“Angela, do whatever you need to do. I’m not really sure how a medically-assisted vampire transformation works, but… I’ll go roundup some volunteers.” The sound of heavy boots clunking against the tile announced Gabriel’s exit. 

So that was it.

 

The next day or so followed. Genji had trouble telling time between a minute and an hour, when all he could do was lay in his numbness. He supposed the stretches between the nurses and doctors checking in on him was somewhere in the minutes. Perhaps ten, perhaps five. He supposed when they rustled around him, they were attempting to… redress his wounds? He heard them call his condition inoperable. He didn’t understand exactly what that meant, or if it meant he couldn’t be bandaged. All he knew was that sometimes he could hear things, people,  _ life. _ And sometimes he was alone, just his thoughts to occupied him. His memories. Nightmares.

But then, when the time came that Dr. Ziegler returned to him, he felt like it hadn’t been enough. He wasn’t ready for this. His insides squirmed while he outsides remained still as stone.

“Hello, Genji. Are you feeling well?” She asked.

It felt like a cruel joke. He lifted one finger to get on with it.

“Good. That’s good. We are almost ready to begin the procedure. I will explain it to you as we proceed through it. It may be a little frightening, it will be painful, but you are in good hands. I promise. Do you understand?”   
One finger.

The sounds of the room started up. The gentle hum of hovering equipment, footsteps and murmured conversation that was too quiet for Genji’s failing ears. An almost-feeling touched his chest. Maybe. And then there was Dr. Ziegler’s voice again, telling him, “We received blood donations from some very generous people in Overwatch. We are going to use them, and introduce the new blood into your body.”

Yes, Genji was now certain he felt the feeling of a needle pressing into his skin. It wasn’t painful. It was more of a pressure against the static.

“Now we are beginning to pull the old blood from your body to be replaced.”

Another pressure, another needle. Genji tried desperately not to think about what it all really meant. Losing his own blood. Virtually the only thing that he still had for his own. Gone, replaced, along with his humanity. Slipping away through his veins and into a surgical tube.

“Genji,” Dr. Ziegler said. She sounded like she was talking to a toddler. Genji felt hot with humiliation, suddenly feverish with it. All he had left was dignity, and there the doctor took it away. “You will soon experience some pain. We will try our very best to keep it to a minimum. But the venom that we are introducing to your body  _ will _ give you discomfort.”

Venom?

Stop.

Stop!

_ Stop it! Stop this!  _

_ I don’t want it anymore!  _

But as one more pressure pricked into Genji’s static, it was too late. He couldn’t scream, there was no stopping, nothing to do. He couldn’t do anything but feel.

And oh, he felt. As seconds passed, he felt so much. As if his body was making up for the hours that he couldn’t. Pain came to him. Hot. Searing hot. Torturously cold. Electricity in his nerves. Blades in his heart. Aches in his bones.

He tried to throw his fists, his arms. He would throw his whole body at the doctors if it would make them stop. But when he tried – it wasn’t the unresponsiveness of before that stopped him short. His arms were there, but they met with bounds. He thrashed and wriggled against them, and found that the pain in his throat was no longer silent. Screams were all he could hear, and they were his own.

_ “No!” _ He cried.  _ “No more! Stop! Stop it!” _

And when that didn’t work,  _ “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!” _

And finally, in desperation,  _ “You can’t do this to me!” _

In the end, none of the doctors stopped it. There  _ was _ no stopping it.

 

Much like before, Genji had no concept of the passage of time. There were no minutes, no hours. Only pain, and the fruitless effort against his bindings that persisted. Sometimes he tired himself into unconsciousness, only to be woken again by more pain. 

Occasionally when he woke, there would be something new. A return of scent, a brassy taste in his mouth. His bindings were gone eventually, presumably because he stopped thrashing.

When he awoke to new eyesight it may have been the worst pain yet. The sear of hospital lights burrowing into his retinae. It rendered him into keeping his eyes shut, blinking only when tears overflowed his vision. Time was easier to keep, at least.

When he discovered renewed hearing, it was less painful and more a nuisance. His throat wore itself out like a dulled-down blade, so when it was no longer his screaming that he could hear, it was every sound from every room in what he assumed was the entire hallway. All in clarity. Too sharp and too much.

Finally, he awoke to what he could only consider to be the most pleasant thing yet. His pain was dying. Little by little, but it was ebbing down. He could hold open his eyes without tears, and hear voices and the words that they said. His throat still pained him terribly, but as he sat in his empty hospital room, he tested it delicately:

“H… Hello?”

Nothing replied to him but his own relief. 

He could speak. He could hear, could see, could  _ feel. _

He broke down into tears. This time not for pain, but for the emotions that caught up with the passing storm.

 

One would probably not consider Genji a very easy patient. He hated to see anyone, from nurses to doctors. He nearly refused to speak. And when it was ever so much as suggested that he should have his IV removed in favor of attempting to…  _ feed _ (the wording made his skin crawl), he would simply not have it.

So, naturally he supposed, Dr. Ziegler was quite surprised when she asked, “You’re certain you’re ready for a visitor?” The topic at hand was only brought up because she mentioned Genji needing to eventually have his papers worked through. Something he would do with the Commander.

Genji affixed her with a glare he could only assume was fearsome. “Gabriel… saw me… before,” he rasped, his throat still on the mend from days – three, he was informed – of screaming his lungs out. “It makes… no difference… now.”

So off the doctor went, and when the hospital room door opened again, there stood Commander Gabriel Reyes.

“Genji.” Gabriel was different from the others. It was why Genji let him in. He figured someone like him wouldn’t shovel bullshit in a sweet voice. He spoke to him like a person. An equal. Not a child. “Dr. Ziegler said you were feeling up to talking.” 

“Yes.”

“Then we should talk. Do you remember before your procedure when I said you’d need to stick around the base for a while until you got the hang of all this?” 

“I do.”

“Well, we have something to talk about in regards to that,” he said, pulling up a chair next to Genji’s bed and dropping down into it. 

Genji became uncomfortably aware of the presence of a beating heart. “What?”

“Namely, you’re going to be staying on base. We already know that. But I wanna offer you something else.” 

“Something… else.”

“Your clan. Now, I don’t know you very well, Genji. And I don’t know  _ them  _ very well. They’re not my responsibility to know about – they’re not supernatural, so they’re not my division’s problem. That said –”

“I want… to tear… them to shreds.”

Gabriel didn’t miss a beat. “Then maybe you’ll like the sound of my proposition.”

Genji gave a sound, something between a snort and a scoff. Or, he hoped that was what came across. “Knew _ you… _ would skip… the bullshit.”

“See, you don’t … Really have anything anymore. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but I’m sure hearing someone else say it can’t feel any worse than it, well,  _ feels _ . But in my experience, people – especially people adjusting to some kind of change like this – work best with a purpose.” Gabriel leaned back in his chair, all the while tapping a pen against the stack of paperwork in his lap. “So, here’s what I think. I think you should come work with us. Be an Overwatch agent. You’ll have our support regardless while you adjust to this, but if sign up in a more official capacity, y’know, if you go through training and help us out with missions and all, you don’t just get support to turn over a new leaf. You can get what you want.  _ You. Get. Even.” _

“Fine.”

“Then starting today, you’re an Overwatch agent. Actually, you’re a Blackwatch agent.” He grinned. “Even better.”

“Black… watch?” Genji gave him a slightly confused squint.

“Ah.” He tapped the emblem on the shoulder of his hoodie. “Overwatch’s all supernatural division. No humans. And we deal specifically with supernatural cases. Y’know, malicious hauntings, demonic possession, anti-supernatural groups like Talon, things like that.”

“Is that why I… never heard of it… before?”

“Probably. We’re not exactly known to the public, for obvious reasons. Even if some of us are in the public eye in our own right.” 

“… Alright. Then what do I… need to do?”

“First of all, you need to fill out this paperwork,” he said, leaning over to place the stack in Genji’s lap. He set the pen on top. 

Genji stared down at it. He was sure his face was probably somewhere between surprise, exhaustion and resentment.

“It’s just basic stuff for our database. Name. Preferred callsign, if you have one. All that. Go on.”

There was still hesitation. It was a reason Genji couldn’t muster to voice: he didn’t think he could do it. He didn’t think he could pick up the pen and write something. It was somewhere in the foggy days of pain that he drew his fear, of Dr. Ziegler warning him that his strength may be difficult to get used to. He was  _ afraid _ of the idea that he couldn’t control his own body. Because then it  _ wasn’t  _ his body, was it.

Genji stared at the pen for a long time before he finally chanced it, taking it into his hand. It was so far so good at first, if a little shaky as he focused so damn hard. It was as if he was puppeteering someone who’d never written before. Frustration boiled inside as he pressed the tip down onto the page, and the words that resulted were barely words at all. Scribbles forming the shape of his name. 

He squeezed in anger, just a little. 

The pen snapped, spilling ink down his hand.

"Ah!"

Startled, he tossed it across the bed and crossed his hands under his armpits.   
"I-I didn’t  – !”

“It’s fine,” Gabriel quickly assured. “No big deal, I promise.” He stood, taking the paperwork from Genji and setting it aside for the moment, then pulled the ink-spattered duvet off his bed. “Here, you can go wash your hands if you want.” He gestured for the bathroom, so Genji went.

As a child, Genji and his brother would whisper ghost stories in the night, making up tales of bloodthirsty beasts and murderous spirits that would appear in dark mirrors and steal souls from victims, or kill them where they stood. When Genji stepped in front of the sink, that’s what he saw. Glowing eyes. Ashen skin. It was there, ready for him, waiting for him all this time.

Genji screamed.

Terrified, he grabbed whatever he could to beat the monster back. The mirror that separated them shattered, but it slipped between the cracks. Glinting like a knife. Like a sword. 

_ Fuck.  _

_ It’s coming! _

_ He’s coming back! _

And just like that, Genji was across the bathroom. Curled into himself on the floor, trembling in the only safety he could make. There was nothing but silence as he held himself tightly in a ball, wishing the nightmare would be over. But soon, a gentle hand touched his back, and from it, a strange soothingness washed down into his bones.

“Hey, hey, you’re alright. Everything’s fine, you’re safe.” It was Gabriel’s voice, Gabriel’s hand rubbing slow and firm, up and down his spine. He spoke to him with a warm reassurance. “How’s that? Better?” 

Genji could only bring himself to whimper. “What… is happening to me?” 

“Which part?”

“What  _ am  _ I?” For a moment, Genji wondered if he’d broken the sink in his panic. But when he realized it was tears that were wetting his hands and legs, everything fell apart. His body trembled under the tremendous weight of one decision to live. He let a sob wrack him, and even whatever spell Gabriel used could not keep his despair from taking hold.  _ “What am I!” _

“You’re a vampire,” Gabriel explained, speaking plainly. “It healed all your injuries. Take everything else as a side effect. You’re still you.” 

“A  _ monster,” _ Genji sobbed. “It’s a  _ monster!” _

“It’s not, no it’s not.” Something soft and warm wrapped around Genji’s shoulders - the Commander’s jacket. “It’s not a monster, it’s just you. You’re still you. You’re not a monster, it’s alright.” 

Even if it was a stranger’s comfort, even if through it all he still clutched to his pride – the only thing he had left in the world – Genji accepted it. He let his body weaken, let his hands take the jacket’s edges like the blankets that he held while he hid from Hanzo’s scary stories. He let the weak promise of humanity be a hope.

A few minutes into the silence that stretched between the two of them, Genji sniffled out an apology.

“Hush, it’s fine. You don’t need to apologize,” Gabriel said. “Come on, kid. Let’s wash your hands and get you back into bed, okay?” 

So Genji agreed, pushing up onto his trembling knees, and then to stand on trembling legs. He avoided looking at the destruction he caused while water ran the ink off of his gray hands. He was afraid the monster in the mirror would be looking right back at him, prowling through the cracks. He followed Gabriel back to his bed, and sat against his pillows all hunched into himself, his arms wrapping around his knees, the jacket still on his shoulders.

“You… do it,” he awkwardly rasped.

“Alright, alright. Let’s see.” Gabriel reached to pull a spare pen from the pocket of his now-usurped jacket, then sat back to get to work. “Name? I  _ know  _ your name. But what name do you want on your paperwork?” 

“Genji. Just… Genji.”

Gabriel scribbled that down. Thankfully, without question. “Date of birth.”

“2044. ... May 5th.”

There was a pause, then a soft mumble under Gabriel’s breath, “Fucking hell.” 

Another pause. 

“... I think we can just use ‘Genji’ as your callsign. Don’t think we have any other Genji in the division.”

“I doubt it.” Somehow, the bedridden patient managed to feel some humour. Maybe it was because he remembered one more thing he still had for himself: his name. “One… of a kind.”

It made Gabriel smile. “Suits you. You pick it yourself?”

“Mm. When I was… a teenager.”

“Mean anything special? I think I would have broken my poor mother’s heart if I hadn’t picked something biblical for myself.”

“I never looked up… the meaning. I just had… a big head.” At that, Gabriel chuckled, and then he carried on.

The list of personal details was short and easy. Just a start to his file, he explained. Since Genji worked for Blackwatch, it’d be essentially the only information logged with Overwatch. Missions details and the like that followed it would be confidential.

“You’ll have a dorm to yourself in the Blackwatch residential building,” Gabriel said as he leaned back and looked over the paperwork. “We’ll get you a keycard that’ll let you into that and most of the other buildings. You’ll need to complete basic training, and for the special ops division, that’s going to be about three months. Give or take. I also want you to have twice weekly meetings with one of our more senior agents – she’s a vampire, too. She’s going to be available to answer any specific questions you have. Now I just need you to sign a few of these forms. Doesn’t have to be your full name; you can just draw a line or something. Do you think you’re up to that?” 

Genji was extremely ginger with the pen this time, so much so that it nearly slipped through his grasp as he lifted it from Gabriel’s hand. When it touched the paper, he drew a wobbly X, then threw it back at his new commanding officer like it was made of silver. 

Gabreil caught it and gave a nod. “Great. Got any questions?” 

“When… do I start?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Charlie:** This chapter was pretty emotionally draining to work on, but I'm really satisfied with the end result! Also Gabe is best dad  
>  and **Nami** says: IF NOBODY CRIED EVEN A LITTLE DURING THIS ONE THEN I'VE FAILED


	6. Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big big thanks and big big hug to our brand-new beta and sensitivity reader, Manolo! You can find him as:  
>  **calaverita** on Ao3  
>  **auttoton** on Tumblr  
>  **autolikescake** on Twitter

The general air around the Overwatch base could have been described as _a bit uncomfortable_. The vague sound of someone almost constantly screaming for three days would probably shake anyone up, but Jesse really felt sorry for the people working in the med bay. Moreover, he felt _especially_ sorry for Genji Shimada. Jesse had personally never seen a vampiric transformation in action, but he knew when one happened outside of a medical setting, it was just as messy, leaving the person doing the turning to play nurse and do their best caring for their indisposed companion.

When the screaming finally stopped, Jesse was struck with the inclination to go and visit Blackwatch’s new fledgling vampire. Maybe bring him a Get Well Soon! card or some flowers. Something about it felt inappropriate though. He didn’t know Shimada, not really. He’d met the man one time almost six months ago. They’d spent one evening talking, gone on one date, and that was that.

If he was being entirely honest, Shimada had barely even crossed his mind since the bullet wound reminding him of Hanamura faded to nothingness.

He hadn’t a clue what he’d even say. _Hey, long time no see, sorry you died._ It felt a little careless. For lack of anything of value to add to Shimada’s situation, Jesse simply didn’t seek him out. Or, he made no plans to seek him out, anyway. Life had its way of welcoming the unexpected.

The … _Encounter_ (that was a good, neutral word for it, Jesse decided) began with a simple enough question, directed at another Blackwatch agent: “Hey, where’s the boss?” He was half-expecting them to not know. After all, Gabriel only rarely disappeared from his office, and he could end up anywhere when he did. Lo and behold though, their answer was quick.

“Yeah, he’s showing the new agent around base. You should know the tour route, I’m sure you can sniff him out.”

Easy enough. He was a little glad for the excuse to see how Shimada was doing – even if he hadn’t thought of him much, that didn’t mean he didn’t care to know if he was feeling any better. It must have been a rough transformation. Even the other vampires in the unit had started to cringe a little in sympathy by day three.

With a general idea of where to go, it didn’t take long for Jesse to find them. He checked the main office first, then the training facilities, the offices, and finally caught up with them at the Blackwatch residential building. He found them in the common area, Gabriel speaking to _him_ off to the side while several other agents milled around watching TV or playing games.

He sure looked different from Jesse’s memory, that was for sure. The bright green hair styled in perky spikes was all gone, now a natural black that seemed to comply to a bedhead. More than that, though, was his face. Lost of any color _._ Lost of _life;_ no cheeky smile, or thoughtful frown, just an apathy. Those soft brown eyes he could pull from his mind were red and piercing wherever they looked. Despite it all, though, Jesse could tell. It was Genji Shimada.

Not one to be caught staring, Jesse pried his gaze over to Gabriel.

“Hey, boss! You got a quick sec?”

It was hard to say exactly what happened next. When Shimada’s newly-changed eyes passed over to him, time seemed to speed. Jesse was on his ass, with that fledgling vampire snarling above him. He was held back by not only Gabriel, but several other members that all seemed to know what was happening before Jesse did.

“You!” Shimada snarled. “It’s _you!”_ His eyes were filled with such an unfathomable _hatred,_ blazing hot like a sun that swallowed a world.

Jesse blinked. He was sure Wolf would have been snarling right back, but it seemed as confused as he was, stunned into a non-reaction. “Uh … Pardner, are you sure you got the right fella?”

_“Jesse McCree!”_

“Oh, so ya do.”

Gabriel had Shimada around the waist, holding him back as best as someone without supernatural strength could. On each of his arms was another agent, helping to hold the new recruit back from turning Jesse into kibble. Gabriel’s strained voice was laced with a similar confusion as he asked, “Kid! Kid, what’s the issue?!”

“This is _your_ fault!” Shimada shouted in a voice that could barely contain itself. It was tearing at the seams, just as he seemed to be, a shriek combined with a growl. “This is _all your fucking fault!”_

“Just how in the hell is this my fault?!” Jesse asked as he pushed himself to his feet. By now, Wolf had regained his senses, and in spite of himself, Jesse’s voice was growling to match Shimada’s. “I ain’t seen hide or hair a’ you in months!”

“I’m going to rip out your _throat!”_ The threat was muffled as the three combined agents managed to wrestle Shimada back out of Jesse’s face, though not without a tremendous struggle.

“I’d like to see you fuckin’ try it!” Jesse fired back.

“Not _helping,_ Jesse!” Gabriel shouted in return. He had to dig his heels in just to stop himself from being yanked forward by Shimada’s struggle. “Go wait in my office!”

“Boss, he’s actin’ like a –”

“ _Now_ , McCree!”

And his tone left no room for debate. Feeling shamefully like he was fleeing with his tail tucked between his legs, Jesse turned and slunk out of the room, Shimada’s threats and shouts following him like a whip to his back through the doorway.

Now … What in the fuck was that all about?

What right did he have to be pissed off at Jesse? It wasn’t like Jesse put a hit on him, _or whatever the hell happened_ . It wasn’t like Jesse turned him into a vampire, hell, it wasn’t even like Jesse had any part in coming up with that idea. Shimada was already in contact with Talon before he met him, so he couldn’t rightly blame Jesse if something happened with _them._ And if it was something to do with his criminal family, how the fuck could be pin that on _some guy_ he met once?!

Jesse scanned his key at the door to Gabriel’s office and let himself in, but there was little to do once there except sit in Gabriel’s chair and fume. Who did Shimada think he was? Trying to start a fight with another agent within a week of signing up, that’d be grounds for kicking a recruit out if Gabriel wanted!

(Not that Gabriel would. Big softie. Shimada probably wouldn’t even get a disciplinary note in his record.)

 _Huff_.

By the time Gabriel finally showed up to meet with him, Jesse had simmered down to a quiet annoyance. His boss arrived to find him sitting in the cushy desk chair, legs pulled up into it and swaying slightly from side to side with a frown – no, pout – curling on his lips.

“Boss, he was bein’ a dickhead.”

Gabriel said nothing for a long moment, simply coming in and leaning his hip against the edge of the desk with his arms crossed. He was silent. He looked at Jesse with a passively neutral expression. Then his eyebrows lifted, just slightly.

“Boss,” Jesse said again. “He tried to _rip_ my _throat_ out.”

Gabriel’s eyebrows lifted slightly higher.

_“Boss.”_

“Jesse.” His tone was as passively demanding of internal reflection as his eyebrows were.

“... I’m _justified!”_

“Of course you’re justified. He tried to rip your throat out. You’re angry. That, of all things, is perfectly justified.”

“Why’re you givin’ me that shitty look, then?”

“You’re pouting. You’re going to keep a grudge about this, and however ‘justified’ that is, it’s not productive.”

Jesse glowered at that. “Why do _I_ have to be the productive one? Tryin’ to kill me wasn’t very productive!”

Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t you think you can make an allowance for someone who probably just had the most fucked up week of his life? I’m not saying you have to like him, Jesse. I just need to know that Pup’s not going to try and start something with him next time you see him.”

“I’m not some kid, I know how to control myself.”

“Oh, I _know_ that. But if you’re holding a grudge and so’s he, then that’s not going to get us anywhere good. Listen, Jesse, I’m not lecturing you, I’m telling you this for your own good. If you want to start a fight with a fledgling vampire, you be my guest, but you know damn well that won’t turn out like you or Pup want it to. And next time there might not be people around to grab him if you’re the one trying to start something. I’m sure Genji’s just feeling a lot of complicated feelings right now. Give him a week to settle in.”

Jesse huffed and sighed and rolled his eyes, but Gabriel just kept giving him that neutrally paternal look of vague fatherly sternness. So he sighed again, and then he shrugged. “Alright, alright.”

“Great, so you’ll be good seeing him around base?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fine.”

A pause.

“And you think you’d be okay talking to him, too?”

“... I s’pose.”

“ _Fantastic_. So! Think you can handle a very important assignment for me?” Gabriel’s tone made Jesse suspicious. It had slid away from that firm-but-gentle-warning and into something a little higher, just ever so slightly cloying. Jesse knew that tone. That was the tone of ‘I’m about to ask you to do me a favor, and you’re not going to like it’.

“ _I s’pose_.” He was primed for it. He was ready and waiting to be told he was getting shipped off to cold-ass Russia, or that he needed to help some Overwatch division out with something. He was not prepared for what Gabriel actually asked of him.

“Atta boy! I need you to help Genji get his gun certification.”

“You have gotta be _fucking kidding me.”_

 

Jesse came away from his little scrap with Shimada no worse for wear physically, but it did take a couple of weeks for his wounded pride to heal. Wolf still perked up whenever they caught sight of Shimada on base, but to Jesse’s surprise, he never seemed to want to start a fight. Hurt and confusion were the things he seemed to register most in regards to him, and Jesse could agree with that latter one, at least. For him though, it was less hurt and more … Well, there was no flattering way to say it – scared shitless.

As it turned out, Gabriel didn’t need to worry about Jesse starting a fight with Shimada, because every time he looked at the guy he had the urge to turn on his heel and walk right back out the room. If looks could kill, Jesse would have been six feet under by now. Fortunately, Shimada didn’t outright try to gut him again, but he did look at him like he wanted to. A hot spike of hatred in his eyes, like Jesse had called his mother something awful in every modern language and possibly the dead ones.

For the most part though, Jesse just avoided him, and everything was totally fine! Except for when he couldn’t do that anymore. Because he had to teach him how to use a gun, and it had to be _him_ for _some fucking reason._

Goddammit.

He stepped onto the shooting range and immediately wanted to leave when he caught Shimada’s scent. God in Heaven, how was he supposed to do this? Shimada was gonna kill him. Sure, he could look at him without going for his throat again, but _could they speak?_ Or would he fly into a fledgling rage just hearing Jesse’s voice?

He made sure to stay a good fifteen feet back when he spoke up. “Hey, new recruit, you ready to get started?”

In response, Shimada said nothing. He wore a more proper uniform by now – not exactly regulation, but at least his hoodie had the Blackwatch logo on it – and a tightly fitted cloth mask pulled up over his nose and mouth.

“Can I at least get a nod?” Jesse asked.

He got a squint instead, those glowing red eyes that only seemed more intense when the rest of his face was hidden.

Jesse huffed. “Y’know, I ain’t gotta do this.”

At least then Shimada replied, “Then don’t.”

“Why are you even here if you’re just gonna act like an asshole?”

“Why are you here at all.”

“Because _our boss_ asked me to be.”

“ _I_ didn’t.”

Jesse rubbed his temple, agitated. He could threaten it, but he couldn’t actually _leave_ after he promised Gabriel he’d take care of this situation. “Well, y’know what, too bad. You can get over whatever hissy fit you wanna throw about me bein’ here, an’ we can get on with this. The sooner we’re done, the sooner we get to not do this anymore.”

“I told Reyes that this was pointless,” Shimada grumbled, turning his unrelenting gaze finally away. “I don’t need _your_ help.”

Jesse quirked an eyebrow. “Okay, you don’t need my help. Tell ya what –” He pulled one of the compact pulse pistols down from its spot on the storage rack and set it down on the counter in front of the range. “Since I’m your supervisor for this, you shoot five shots from this pulse pistol an’ land all of them at least on the target, an’ I’ll certify you right here an’ now.”

Shimada _snorted,_ which was possibly the most annoying thing yet. “I said I don’t need _your_ help, because I don’t need a _gun._ They’re loud and simple.”

“Yeah, well, passin’ your gun certification is part of gettin’ cleared for field work. Everyone carries a sidearm, at least. You ain’t special. So, quit bein’ uppity an’ show me what you’ve got, _Shimada.”_

It was like lightning struck, just like before. Shimada was upon Jesse, within an inch of his face, red eyes flashing with a murderous intent. Jesse felt his heart stutter and pound in his chest. Even Wolf seemed cowed, because it didn’t perk up or rise to the challenge. Shimada’s voice was not raised, however. It was low and dangerous. “That is _not_ my name.”

“... Genji, then.”

And just like that, Shima– _Genji_ seemed satisfied, taking several paces back from Jesse, though never breaking that piercing eye contact. Not until he turned toward the pulse pistol sitting on the bench did Jesse breathe again. Genji picked it up by the butt with two fingers like it was something obscene, disgusted. “Not even a proper firearm?”

“Pulse pistols are standard. They're easier to learn and easier to care for,” Jesse explained as he slowly, cautiously came over to join him.

“I see.” Genji didn’t seem to intend on lunging at Jesse again, too busy with looking at the gun dangling from his fingers. “This is still ridiculous.”

“C’mon, let’s just get this over with. I wasn’t jokin’, all you gotta do is show me you can aim that gun an’ maintain it, an’ I can certify you.”

Genji looked at him again, this one more a passing glance. He looked at the target board as he adjusted his grip on the weapon. It was an incorrect hold. He lifted it up, both hands firmly wrapped as if it would escape him as the pulse round fired. Jesse immediately reached for his wrist to lower his arms, causing Genji to yank back, slapping the hand from touching him.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m tryin’ to adjust your grip,” Jesse said. “You’re holdin’ the gun completely wrong; it’s a pulse pistol not a fuckin’ Magnum. Ain’t gonna bite you. This model’s meant to be fired one-handed. The whole point is it’s a backup weapon, so they expect you’ll be firin’ it under strenuous circumstances. You’ll have to show me you can fire it accurately right an’ left handed to get certified.”

“Hm.” That was all Genji said as he very purposefully held his left hand down and to the side, leaving just one gripping the pistol toward the board. He fired. His pulse round flew forward toward the target, though it merely skimmed its mark. It left a growl rising in Genji’s throat.

“Try closin’ one of your eyes,” Jesse suggested, despite the grumbling fledgling’s glare. “An’ if you need to, while you’re gettin’ the hang of it, you can brace your other hand against the bottom of the grip to keep it steady. Focus down your sights, not on the target.”

So that was what Genji did, to his credit. He followed Jesse’s suggestions, closing an eye, raising a hand. It was _nearly_ good form, honestly, until the time came to pull the trigger again. It was only for a moment, but it seemed like something was sabotaging the shot. It veered, missing worse than it had before. Genji huffed.

Jesse hummed. “Your form’s fine. You’re hesitatin’ though, I can see it. Ain’t you ever fired a gun before?” He was surprised. Almost disbelieving, actually. Didn’t Genji grow up in the yakuza? Surely he would have been taught how to fire a handgun. Traditional or nontraditional, a sword didn’t work for _everything_.

Genji only looked at him, then looked away. “Not like this.”

It didn’t sound precisely like a _lie,_ but it sure didn’t sound like the whole truth. Jesse decided to let it go, anyway.

“Don’t be scared of it –”

“I’m _not_ scared.”

“ _Fine_ , but however you feel, you’re fuckin’ up because you don’t wanna fire the gun in the first place. How can I help with that?” The question was meant to be genuine. Whatever personal issues they’d suddenly developed with each other, Jesse was his teacher in this situation. And he was going to do his damn job.

Unfortunately, Genji merely gave him that _look_ again, and his grip tightened on the pistol. “Give me my certification.”

“I _can’t_.”

“I don’t want to be here. I suspect you do not want to be here. Just give it to me!”

“Do you have any idea how much trouble I’ll get in if someone finds out I passed you without a proper exam?!”

“ Just – !”

“– An’, hell, _more_ importantly, do you realize how bad it’ll be for _you_ an’ anyone who needs your help if you’re on a mission an’ your gun is the only thing you’ve got? It’s a sidearm for emergencies. Not knowing how to use it in an emergency is a _big_ deal!”

“ _Just_ – !”

There was a loud crack suddenly, and Genji recoiled as though Jesse had shot him, gripping onto his hand. On the ground, there were the remains of the pulse pistol, crumpled like a children’s toy in a lawnmower. Jesse looked at it with shock written in big, bold letters all over his face, but he was quick to neutralize his expression.

“Alright,” he said, much quieter, kicking the crackling remains to the side with his boot. “Alright, no big deal. Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.” Another lie, because Genji was holding protectively onto his right hand, and his shoulders were hunched. “Just get me another gun.”

“Come on, let me see,” Jesse said with a sigh. “If you’re hurt, we’ll do this another day.”

Like the proud lion with a thorn in its paw, Genji slowly pulled his hands apart to show Jesse the angry red burn that seared across his palm. It looked painful, even for his own standards. Yet even as they looked, it seemed to be healing, little by little, the flesh knitting back together. A familiar sight for Jesse.

Breaking the little silence that lapsed between them, Genji whispered, “It’s not natural.” His voice wavered, betraying the tiniest bit of a thing that Jesse did not at all expect: fear. He softened.

“Not for a human,” Jesse agreed. “... Listen, I know it’s hard, but try not to think a’ stuff as _unnatural_. Try to think of it as a new version of natural. It’s natural to you now. It’s natural to a lot of other people. You just gotta relearn stuff little by little. The beginnin’ is the hardest.”

“What would _you_ know about it?!” Genji snapped, less a threat now than a kitten hissing in defense.

Still, Jesse couldn’t resist snapping back, “What, you think I was _born_ like this?”

That shut him up.

Jesse’s eyes darted away, the fire flicking out as quickly as it had flared.  “... I’ll clean this up. Let’s call it quits for today.”

Jesse bent down, expecting Genji to be out of there as quick as he could, but he remained where he was. A silence stretched between them, almost awkward if it wasn’t ignored. Maybe they were just both too stubborn to break it first.

Finally, not looking at each other, another whisper came from the fledgling, _“How am I supposed to live this way?”_

There was a long moment where Jesse didn’t say anything. Thinking of an answer or just … Wondering if he even should answer. If he had anything valuable to offer. “You just learn to,” he finally decided. “You hate yourself an’ you hate yourself an’ eventually you realize, well, hatin’ yourself ain’t gonna get you nowhere, ‘cause it’s the only life you’ve got now, so there’s no point in all that when there ain’t actually anythin’ _wrong_ with you.”

Without another word between them, Genji started his way toward the exit. Quiet footsteps, one-by-one. Jesse didn’t know if his words got through to Genji, or if he even bothered to listen. But the fledgling did stop just before the doorway, his voice echoing behind him as he mumbled, “Tomorrow, then.” And he was gone.

Jesse stood, the broken bits of pulse pistol gathered in his hands. How scary it must have been to suddenly be that strong. Werewolves weren’t that strong, to break something so sturdy without even thinking about it.

He sighed.

Hopefully, what he’d said would click with Genji at least a little. He hadn’t told Genji the kicker though: that words wouldn’t make _this_ better. He understood how he felt, truly, probably more than he could imagine he would, and he knew that anyone simply _telling_ him that there was nothing wrong with him or his – eugh – _condition_ never changed the fact that there was, definitely, something wrong. It wouldn’t change the fact that he’d been human, and now he wasn’t.

But, if nothing else, words were a good enough place to start.

Jesse supposed if he was going to say he knew how Genji felt, he ought to take what Gabriel said to heart and cut him some slack. Or more slack than he was already cutting him by working with him, anyhow. Granted, what they both felt surely wasn’t quite the same, but neither were their transitions into Blackwatch. He’d been emotional and mean and troubled in his own right when he’d joined up, and the only thing for it was the fact at least one person had been there the whole time with stunning consistency. When Jesse was a seventeen-year-old lashing out at everyone because he was frightened, he’d needed Gabriel.

Genji was brand new to all of this and – Jesse was smart enough to tell – lashing out because being new to all of this was _utterly terrifying_.

Genji needed a friend. And, well, shit. Not like anyone else was gonna do it. So, alright then. Jesse could rise to a challenge.

Tomorrow came.

When Jesse walked into the training range, he asked, “Hey, new recruit, you ready to get started?”


	7. Bullseye

Three weeks – that was how long it’d been since Genji Shimada had officially joined Blackwatch. And as far as Jesse could tell, they hadn’t made any progress. In shooting or in friendship. Genji was as standoffish (and bad with a gun) as ever, sharing a few conversations with Jesse a day at most, but Jesse was determined to keep trying with him. 

Especially now, with Gabriel off on that mission of his. He’d left the evening before, and Jesse knew that must have been hard for Genji. Even if he didn’t like Gabriel, if he was anything like Jesse when he was a fresh recruit, he probably still preferred him to anyone else on base. Jesse didn’t know if Genji was anything like him. But even if he was just projecting, he still thought it was worth the effort. Despite the fact that he was still a little gun shy after that unfortunate  _ encounter  _ during Genji’s tour. 

He  _ also  _ felt it was his responsibility to help Genji out with new experiences. Like the bi-weekly Blackwatch meeting. Genji had gotten to skip the one two weeks ago, since he was still so new. Now that he was all in the system and everything though, he was expected to start getting done what work he was able to without being field certified. Jesse offered Genji a smile when he stepped into the meeting room, kicking out the office chair next to himself. The Blackwatch meetings took place in a large, windowless conference room, a round table in the middle for everyone to sit at and a holo screen for reference. 

“Saved you a seat.” 

As per usual, the only part of Genji’s face he could see was his eyes, but they widened tellingly enough. He gave an awkward duck of his head in thanks (which was better than nothing) and quietly shuffled down into the seat. He didn’t look up much from his hands, seeming to particularly avoid anyone else.

In Gabriel’s absence, a woman stood at the front, looking through files in preparation as he usually did. She was tall, with a full figure and thick arms. Stark white hair was tied in a loose braid over her shoulder, and her eyes flickered here and there across the page behind a pair of red-tinted glasses. 

“That’s Lieutenant Cohen,” Jesse whispered softly to Genji. “She’s the boss’ second-in-command. Been here longer ‘an almost anyone else, I reckon.” 

It made Genji glance up successfully, and his bright red eyes surveyed the Lieutenant. “What is she?” He whispered back.

Typically speaking, that wasn’t a question you really asked. But, he supposed, most people in the unit were also familiar enough with the supernatural to know better. Genji was not, so he’d get a pass for now. “Werebear,” he explained. “Polar bear, specifically. She’s also a great agent. You’d be lucky to work with her if she did field work anymore.” 

Genji gave a little blink in acknowledgment. It seemed Jesse teased his interest, and his eyes passed cautiously over to some of the others congregating in the room with them. He didn’t ask, but Jesse could tell he was curious. Gabriel must have told him by now that everyone in Blackwatch was, well,  _ something. _

So, time for introductions. “That there’s Fischer. He’s a siren. And Artico, Paz, Sommer – they’re more weres. Wolf, puma, an’ another wolf, respectively. Wolves happen to be the most common, in case that ain’t obvious. Packs, y’know?” Jesse scratched his jaw. “ Wei Xiao , you know her –” The older vampire Gabriel had assigned Genji to meet with weekly. She flashed the two of them a toothy grin as she took her seat. “We got some more vamps, but I’m pretty sure they’re all off base at the moment. Wolfe – not a werewolf, surprisingly. Faefolk. Taflen, they’re a dryad. In case you can’t tell by the leaves. An’ Jicho, well, should be pretty easy to tell with him.” The large, singular eye centered above his nose was a pretty obvious giveaway. “Shit, I s’pose we’ve got someone representin’ just about anythin’ you could think of. Off-base if not around right now.” 

When Jesse looked back at Genji, he could gather the amount of overwhelmed the fledgling was feeling right then. He shifted his eyes from staring at the agents to looking back down at his wringing hands and up again. This was a whole lot of weird to get used to at once. 

Genji mumbled a little, “I see.”

“It’s a lot to take in,” Jesse said. “But I promise they’re mostly real nice.” 

He received a glance from those piercing eyes. “I’m not afraid.”

“I was.”

“There are worse things.” Genji looked back down at his hands, neglecting to elaborate.

Jesse didn’t comment further, though it gave his heart a small ache. He noticed that a lot with Genji. Hints of some sad past, something he surely wouldn’t want to talk about. A thought half-spoken and swallowed back down. He just leaned his elbows on the table and changed the subject. 

“We should be startin’ soon. These don’t usually run too long.” 

Genji didn’t say anything else, merely leaning his forearms one over the other on the table and hunching down. Making himself as close to invisible as he could get, surely. No different than a younger, lankier Jesse himself.

“So,” Cohen said, commencing the meeting. “As some of you might know, Reyes is off base this week. Business as usual, otherwise. First order of business, we’re welcoming a new recruit! Genji –” She gestured towards him. Jesse winced in sympathy. He hated this part. Seventeen-year-old Jesse had wanted a hole to open up in the Earth and swallow him whole; anything would have been preferable to  _ everyone  _ looking at him. It was a blessing that Cohen moved the meeting along rather quickly. “You can all introduce yourselves on your own time.” 

When Jesse subtly looked at Genji, he could see exactly that same desire to immediately disappear in his shifting glance, from one elbow to the other, the table, anywhere but where he could meet the eyes of anyone else. Yeah, that took him back.

The meeting was the same as ever. Going over relevant details as to what the team was doing, assigning missions for the coming weeks – Jesse looked down at his holopad as his assignment was displayed. He resisted groaning. 

“Any questions?” Jesse glanced up at the Lieutenant’s words. 

“Yeah, why’d  _ I  _ get picked for this shit?” He asked. “ Sergeant Larkin is the biggest idiot on base,  _ why  _ do  _ I _ have to work with him?” And he wasn’t even in the division. Overwatch. Meaning Jesse would have to put on his blues and be on his best behavior, which was  _ fine  _ if he was working with someone like Ana, but  _ Larkin _ ?

“Take it up with Reyes, he picked you for that one personally. That all?” Jesse sat back, grumbling, but said nothing else. “Alright, dismissed.” 

Jesse hopped up from his chair and tapped Genji, just lightly, a brush of his fingertips against his shoulder. “C’mon recruit, let’s go to the range.” 

Genji’s shoulder jolted at the touch, and for a split second Jesse wondered if he was going to get something a little harsher in return. Instead, he got a nod as Genji stood, lifted his hood, and came to follow him.

“First meetin’s the worst,” Jesse said, tucking his hands into his pockets as they walked. “You won’t get singled out next time, don’t worry.” 

The black blob in the corner of his vision nodded.

“You ready to get back to practicin’? I really feel like you’re close to gettin’ it!” He didn’t, but it was better to be encouraging. Genji was … Sensitive. Honestly, it seemed like Genji hadn’t been improving at all. At the beginning it looked like he was starting to get it, and then he just – he just stopped. If anything, he was getting worse, which was kind of impressive in itself. “Just a matter of practice, after all. An’ you’ve been working hard at it!” 

But, well, his lie didn’t get past the fledgling. Genji looked over at him, and raised an eyebrow. “Do you believe that?” It almost sounded like  _ humour _ in his tone, however unlikely.

Jesse chuckled. “Well … I believe anyone can be good at somethin’ if they really set  their mind to it. We just gotta figure out what’s stoppin’ you,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll get there  _ eventually _ .” 

When Genji looked ahead again, eyes hid away by the hood, he had a strange something in his tone. “Hm. I’m sure.”

“Maybe,” Jesse hummed as they entered the range, “You’d do better tryin’ somethin’ other than a pulse pistol? D’ya wanna try somethin’ different to warm up?” 

That seemed to pique his interest. “Such as?”

“I could show you how to use this beaut,” Jesse said, tugging his revolver out from her holster. “If you’re interested. I like the weight a’ her a lot better than the pulse pistols. They just feel too flimsy.” 

Genji’s familiar, sharp glare latched onto Peacekeeper in his hand. He scrutinized her like one would a criminal. “You want me to use  _ that?” _

“An’ what exactly is wrong with her?” 

“It looks a hundred years old.”

“She’s  _ not _ . Her name’s Peacekeeper, an’ I can shoot near better with her than I can with a sniper rifle.”

“You keep referring to it like a person,” Genji observed with a quirk to his brow and a cross of his arms. “It’s a weapon.”

Jesse pouted. “She’s been with me longer than any person. She deserves to be treated special.” 

For a moment, Genji caught his gaze. And said nothing.

“Just try her.” 

So he held out his hand. 

Delighted, Jesse flipped Peacekeeper elegantly in his hand to hold her by the muzzle and pressed her grip against Genji’s palm. 

“She’s a mite bit heavier than those dinky lil’ pulse pistols. But she shoots straight an’ she can put a hole through even some a’ the best armor.” 

When Genji held Peacekeeper, she almost seemed to suit him. He held her more comfortably, seemed to adjust his hands easier than with the pistols. “This is closer to what I’m accustomed,” he said, holding his arm straight in a practice of a shooting stance. “But if this is your personal firearm, you should be more cautious that I will snap it.”

“Those things are made a’ glorified plastic,” Jesse snorted. “She’s the real deal. Although if you dent her, I will be very sad, so please be gentle.” 

His eyes flicked up and down Genji’s body as he held the revolver. Something about it seemed … Closer to right. And – just in Jesse’s opinion – if a boy with a gun was a pretty sight, a boy with  _ his  _ gun was that much nicer to look at. 

As if detecting his thoughts, Genji’s eyes snapped over to him.

“Well,” Jesse said, eyes raising, cheeks slightly flushed at being caught looking. “Go on. See if you can hit a target with her.” 

And so Genji returned his gaze to the targets, adjusted his posture with Peacekeeper at hand, pulled back the hammer, and fired. He damn near nailed the bullseye, only a little off to the left, and seemed to be a little proud of himself as he pulled it back.

Jesse gave an excited holler, “Hey! That’s it! Now that is how you shoot! I knew you had it in ya.” He lifted his hand to slap Genji on the back in congratulations, but stopped himself before he got there. No touching. He hadn’t forgotten Genji’s flinch in the meeting room. “Think you can give me a repeat performance with your pistol now, bud? You shoot like that an’ we can get you certified an’ wrap this whole thing up.” 

That earned a strange glance. Not quite like the glare Jesse was accustomed to, he couldn’t quite read it at all. But it only lasted a moment before Genji gave Peacekeeper back with a little toss and went to retrieve a standard-issue. He stood like usual, looked like usual, and shot … Like usual. A complete miss, the pulse round singeing the side of the target and no more, the same as any other day.

“Seems not,” he deadpanned with a slight, careless shrug.

Jesse scratched his temple, confused. “Now, that don’t make no sense. Here, lemme see that gun.” 

Genji handed it over. Jesse nudged him off to the side and took his spot. He fired off five shots. All hit bullseyes. “Huh.” How was it that Genji could hit the target with Peacekeeper but not with one of these simple little things? He handed it back to Genji. “Maybe you’re overthinkin’ it. Look, if I can train Angie on these things, I can train you. We’ll figure it out.” 

That strange look again as Genji took the pistol back. Yet he said nothing more of it as he retook his place. “I heard you were displeased with your mission.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. It ain’t a big deal, just workin’ with people I don’t wanna work with.”

“Is there something you would prefer?”

“I’d rather be workin’ within  _ our  _ division,” Jesse said with a sigh. “Larkin’s Overwatch, not Blackwatch. I don’t …  _ Prefer  _ workin’ with Overwatch.” 

“Why?” Genji took a some idle shots.

Jesse leaned back against the wall, thinking. “I don’t mind workin’ with Overwatch if it’s someone competent. Like Captain Amari. Or even Lieutenant Wilhelm, loud as he is. But  _ Larkin _ . Okay, he’s human, for starters. An’ I dunno if he missed sensitivity trainin’ or what, but he puts his foot in his mouth worse than anyone I’ve ever met. I think it’s just because he’s stupid though, ‘cause he is. The man would forget his own ass if it wasn’t attached to him. I dunno  _ why  _ Reyes picked this for me.” 

Genji hit the target on that next shot, but when his shoulders bunched and he tried very quickly again, he missed. Must’ve been a fluke. Fluke or not though, Jesse thought it was worth praising. 

“Hey! Good shot! See, you’re gettin’ it.” 

“Not quite.”

Jesse pushed away from the wall and came over to smile at Genji. He was proud in spite of his assurance, but he still thought he might be working too hard. “Wanna break for now? We can start again tomorrow. I was gonna head on over an’ do some workouts, if you wanna join me.” 

Genji looked at him. “Join you?”

“Yeah? If you want.” 

“… Where?”

Jesse scratched his jaw thoughtfully. “Well … If we go to the Blackwatch trainin’ room, people might try to introduce themselves to you. But if we go to one of the Overwatch ones, we’ll probably get ignored. So let’s try there.”

Genji placed the pulse pistol on the bench and nodded. “Better than more of this, I suppose.”

 

The training room was a brightly lit, square room done up in blue and white. Here and there, agents in gym clothes were running on treadmills, lifting weights, sparring in the rings, and so on.

“Don’t know if you’ve been told, but there’s also a huge facility on the roof for more practical trainin’, with bots an’ stuff. This here’s where you do more workin’ out than anythin’.” Jesse started off towards the locker room, waving Genji along as he went. “I need to get some weight liftin’ an’ stuff in. Maybe we can try out some sparrin’ later?” 

Genji followed for a moment, though quickly grew distracted. He watched the agents in the room with what seemed like suspicion and curiosity, most particularly the ones that practiced in the sparring rings. So engrossed was he, he stopped short of the locker room door and never followed Jesse further.

“Genji?” Jesse asked, poking his head back out when he realized his companion had disappeared. He supposed it wouldn’t matter if Genji changed or not, because he was pretty sure vampires didn’t sweat, but even so. “You comin’?”

As it happened, his companion was a slippery one. He was no longer by the door, but standing beside the rings as a fight seemed to be underway. His eyes were intense, alive, maybe the most alive Jesse had seen of him yet. As much as Jesse wanted to stay and watch the match with him, he did need to change, so he ducked back into the locker room. 

He was glad Genji seemed to have warmed up to him, if out of nowhere. He was becoming less and less worried that he would take a swipe at him. It was good for Genji, he thought, if they were becoming friends. He hoped he was doing well rising to the challenge of being what he needed.

Jesse headed back out in his sweats to catch up with Genji. 

And there was his companion.

No longer standing around and watching the proceedings, but standing in the ring, himself. And in there with him - Sergeant Larkin, of all people. Jesse padded over.

“Genji, what’re you doin’?” 

“I was issued a challenge,” Genji replied evenly. He pulled the zipper on his hoodie and discarded it on the floor behind, left in his facemask and a standard-issue black turtleneck, short at the sleeves, tight at the chest, same as the rest.

“Larkin, what in the hell are  _ you _ doin’?” 

“ _ Relax  _ McCree. Your new recruit said he could hold his own. I thought I’d just test ‘im out.” 

Jesse crossed his arms with a soft, derisive  _ tsk _ . “It’s your funeral. I know you think a’ recruits as fresh meat for this alpha male shit you got goin’ on, but you oughta know by now Blackwatch recruits ain’t no guppies.” 

Genji didn’t even seem to hear the two of them. He began a slow walk, like a prowl, around the ring. His eyes, those piercing, penetrating eyes, were stuck like pins into Larkin as he moved. Every step was deliberate, purposeful.

“You supernatural guys think you're pretty tough!” Larkin said. “But humans can hold our own just as well. C’mon, show me what you got,  _ fresh meat.” _

“Goading? Childish,” Genji murmured.

“Not so friendly, are you?”

“Quit yappin’!” Jesse yelled at the Sergeant. "It's a fight, talk with your damn fists instead a' your mouth for once!" 

It made Larkin go a little red. “Fine! Come at me, recruit!”

So Genji continued walking. Slow, methodical, step-by-step.  When he reached a quarter of the way around the ring, he planted his foot back against a beam and launched forward.

The speed was an astounding sight for Jesse, though not an uncommon one. Blackwatch had a few vampires around, the fastest of ‘em all, and even his were-brethren could get pretty damn fast when they wanted to. But there was still something to be said for seeing a vamp in action. A fledgling, at that. He whistled, watching Genji as he came upon Larkin. First feigning right, then striking left.

Poor sucker didn’t even see it coming. He came to a skidding stop, clutching a hand to the ribs that Genji surely bruised with that one hit. Teeth grit and shoulders squaring up, Larkin seemed to at least take the match more seriously now.

“You’re quick,” he grumbled. “Speed’s not everything, though.”

“No?” Genji replied, back to his readied, nimble posture. “Is it in the mouth, then?” And then something in his face changed in a way Jesse hadn’t seen before. A crinkle beside one of his eyes, a fold of his cloth mask. He was  _ smirking! _ “I came at you. Return the favor.”

“You’re baiting me,” Larkin accused, though he wasn’t too good to take it. He ran at Genji like a bull, throwing everything into strength. He must have assumed that if he couldn’t out-pace Genji, he could at least out-power him. What a fool he truly was. Genji nearly  _ danced _ out of the way, so practiced and light on his feet (suppose this was where he excelled, rather than gun training.) He dodged every single strike Larkin tried on him, and it was leaving the Sergeant rather red-faced, no doubt humiliated. Genji seemed close to laughing. To Jesse, it seemed like he was enjoying this like someone might enjoy an old hobby or video game, with a sort of fond nostalgia. Joy looked real nice on him.

That is, until something went very wrong.

After a few minutes of delightedly out-pacing Larkin at every turn, Genji seemed to spot the right opportunity to strike back. To topple his opponent and win, just like any other ordinary spar. He went for it  – quick, precise. He caught Larkin’s arm and swung it around to lock him in a simple grab.

Something  _ snapped. _

Genji let go.

Larkin  _ screamed. _

The match had attracted quite the crowd, either to observe the new recruit’s moves or snicker at Larkin getting so handily beaten, and everyone  – Jesse included – inhaled a sharp, collective breath. Larkin stumbled back. He was sitting on his ass. He was holding his arm against his chest. 

He was furious. 

“You broke my arm!” He roared at Genji. “You broke my fucking arm, you  _ stupid fucking leech!” _

Until then, Genji had been frozen. Shocked, perhaps even frightened, staring at his opponent with a roundness in his eyes and a stammer stuck in his throat. But when Larkin shouted, when he cursed and spat at him, it didn’t take Genji any longer to turn and bolt.

Already, a couple Overwatch agents had hopped up into the ring to pull Larkin to his feet. Jesse watched Genji run off, but quickly whirled back to Larkin, glaring. “This is your own fuckin’ fault for challengin’ a new vampire to a fight, you dumb son of a bitch! You leave him the fuck alone from now on, you hear me?” He pointed his finger into Larkin’s face, accusatory. Though he was bigger than Jesse, and though the ring placed him on higher ground, he still seemed suitably shamed, shrinking back slightly against the agents who’d helped him up. “An’ you best believe I’m reportin’ you to our boss. You think  _ I’m  _ pissed? Let’s see what Reyes has to say to you.” And with that, Jesse finally turned and ran off, hurrying out of the room to find Genji. 

To say the least, he was surprised when he found him. Not running away at a vampire’s speed, but sat just beside the doors to the facility, his legs up against his chest and his head in his hands. Shaking, trembling at the shoulders. When he heard Jesse, his head jolted up. Covered in tears, his mask pulled down to his neck. All it seemed he could say was, “I-I-I didn’t – I didn’t mean –”

“Hey, hey, shh, I know.” Jesse dropped to his knees at once, scooting towards him but still giving him his space. “It’s alright. I know you didn’t mean to. It ain’t your fault.” 

It seemed like that was permission enough for more tears. Genji tried to hide them, lifting his hands to rub them away as he looked down. “He called me a – a  _ leech…” _

“He’s an  _ asshole _ . He’s just a stupid bully, that’s all. You don’t need to listen to him; he’s  _ wrong _ .” Jesse wanted so badly to touch him. Curled up, crying, Genji looked so small. Jesse just wanted to hug him, but he knew that wasn’t what Genji wanted. “I mean, the guy practically gets off on showin’ up new recruits who don’t know better. He’s pathetic. Nothin’ he says is worth anythin’.” 

“But he’s right,” Genji whimpered in such a miserable voice. “I am. I-I am a… a  _ monster.  _ I did  _ that.” _

“No you aren’t! Genji, it was an  _ accident _ –“

“I snapped a man’s arm like it was nothing!” Genji interrupted, a new fire bubbling up through the tears. “That should not be an  _ accident  _ I can  _ make!  _ Like a pen, like a fucking  _ gun?”  _ He slammed one fist against the wall, leaving a dent, while his other covered his face. “I suck my meals out of a tube! I can hear every heartbeat pounding in my ears every second of every moment! What kind of freak  _ am I?!” _

“It’s  _ scary _ ,” Jesse said, the gentleness of his tone matching the fire in Genji’s. “But you learn to live with it. I always felt like I was losin’ to  _ it  _ in the beginnin’, but it … Y’know, it got better. Genuinely. An’ you can ask any vampire in the unit, they’ll tell you the same thing. You ain’t a freak. You’re just different than you were.” 

They came again, the accusations, but none of the fire or ferocity came with them. “This is all your fault,” Genji sniffled, managing at least a flimsy glare around his wet face. “All of this is all your fault!”

Maybe they should have made Jesse angry. Being blamed when you did nothing did that to a person, but Jesse just felt … Sad. He just wanted Genji to stop crying. “Genji, you’ll be okay. I promise. An’ I know me sayin’ that sounds like a load a’ shit, an’ probably don’t really make you feel any better, but I don’t know what else to say. I’d make this better if I could.” 

“Shut up!” Genji erupted, throwing his fists into his lap like a tantrum. “Shut up, shut up! You fucked with my life  _ enough already!” _

And with that, the fledgling pushed up to his feet, and immediately to a run that left Jesse far behind.

Jesse did not give chase. He still didn’t understand why Genji was blaming him of all people for this mess, especially when he’d only been trying to be  _ nice  _ to him, but … He pushed himself up to his feet with a huff. Hopefully, things would be better tomorrow. Jesse would try to feel things out at training and see where Genji was at. 

 

Except, Genji didn’t show to training the next morning. Jesse walked to the range alone and keyed in, only to find it utterly silent. 

He called out, “Genji?” No answer. What was strange though, was the state of the place. Not that it was particularly messy or out of sorts, but it  _ had  _ clearly been disturbed. The targets were all set out by the machinery and a pulse pistol lay discarded on the floor. No one else should have been in here – Jesse had this part of the range reserved for him and Genji during this time block, the door shouldn’t have let anyone else key in. And it wasn’t like Genji would bring anyone else here. Jesse was pretty sure Genji didn’t even know anyone else on base by name, save for Reyes and  _ maybe  _ the folks he’d pointed out at the meeting the day before. Maybe. If he remembered any of them. 

“Geeen-ji, you around?” Maybe Genji was still in a foul mood and didn’t want to see him, Jesse thought as he bent to pick the pulse pistol up from the ground. He turned it over in his hands to examine and brushed his fingers softly over subtle dents in the grip. Tiny dips, where the material had been warped by a grip too tight. A grip from a hand smaller than Jesse’s.

His eyes flickered up to the targets, and that was perhaps the strangest part. Five targets, five perfect shots through five bullseyes. Jesse stared, the wires not quite connecting in his brain, not quite  _ getting  _ the significance of what he was looking at. He wondered, idly, if Genji had cheated his way through in some kind of power move. Jesse couldn’t fathom how he would have done that though. The forcefield meant to stop bullets from deflecting back off the walls if you made a lousy shot also prevented anyone from stupidly hopping the counter onto the range, so it wasn’t like he could have gotten closer. And if Genji didn’t know hardly anyone on base, he definitely wasn’t close enough with anyone to get them to help him attempt to cheat his way through his certification.

Jesse just kept looking, kept thinking, and as the bullseyes bored into his brain, the meaning of it all finally  _ clicked _ . And Jesse’s heart broke, just a little. Apparently, he’d underestimated just how lonely Genji was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Charlie says:** Our combined knowledge of guns and fighting techniques is. Limited. So let's all agree to have some suspension of disbelief here if you notice any technical aspects that don't look quite right and let 'em go, eh?  
>  **And Nami says:** I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ANYTHING, SO I'M SORRY IF SOMETHING TECHNICAL IS WRONG, I DON'T KNOW. IM TWYING
> 
> Also, once again a big shoutout to our beta reader Manolo! He keeps our prose clear and our typos in check!


	8. Breaking Walls

Morning was a difficult concept to gauge, anymore. It was nebulous. The sun rose, it was morning. The birds sang, it was morning. Ten minutes past twelve, it was morning. You wake up, and it’s morning.

None of these things felt like they could apply to Genji. Not now. Not anymore.

The fledgling sat in his blackened dorm, staring at the glaring red numbers on his issued alarm clock. He’d never heard that thing beep. Never needed to. Since his arrival into the lap of Blackwatch, he had yet to ever sleep more than a couple of hours at a time. Apparently, it was normal. That was what his  _ tutor _ told him. Vampires slept little, and usually during the day.

And he was a vampire.

His eyes continued to let the numbers sear into them. Seven o’ clock. Seven in the evening. Seven, dinner time in another life. Dinner, maybe with a cute date. Dinner, maybe spent alone. Dinner, alone, because his family had been torn apart, and then ripped itself apart only further.

He kicked his clock. The numbers tumbled through the darkness until the the red light glared across the floor. He watched it, reflecting in the shards of his broken mirror, for just a moment before he stood.

Tiptoeing around in his dark dormitory was becoming just a dangerous habit for Genji. He knew which piece of furniture he’d ripped apart. He knew where the mirror was before he smashed it to the ground. It was muscle memory. Step here, step there. More normal than what else he’d had to come to learn. 

Such as, when he knew it was time to feed.

His stomach didn’t clench and gurgle to tell him he was hungry, not anymore. It was a little closer to how thirst felt, like a tingle at the back of his mouth. But it came with other unpleasantness. His heartbeat quickened, his breathing heavied, his body grew restless and antsy. Becoming hungry was closer to a panic attack than anything.

So, for as much as he hated it, for as much as it made him feel wrong and gross and inhuman, he elected to keep himself fed.

_ Hell, _ he thought with a snort as he pulled out a pack from his mini-fridge, he was doing well enough so far having fits, attacks and tantrums without the bloodlust added on to it.

Genji sat himself down at his desk. The console that sat on the surface lit up with the logo for the base’s assistant AI. A big, blue  _ A  _ to announce that Athena was ready and waiting to help with any request. He watched as the screen opened to his desktop, and he accessed his mailbox. 

There it was. While sucking down the thick liquid from the pack in his hand, Genji read out an email that certified his gun training for field use.

He sighed.

He fucked this one up.

It was during the night before that he stalked around his room in fury, convincing himself again and again that everything in the world could just be blamed on one thing, one thing to understand, one thing to solve every ache in his heart. It was during the night that he decided he was being childish. Lying and faking to have some contact, needlessly extending his certification, just for…  For what, for  _ friendship? _

McCree wasn’t his friend.

McCree was someone that knew him once, when he had humanity, when he had red in his cheeks and light in his eyes. He was someone that could he could never forget, even when he tried so hard to for so many months. He was someone that made him want to believe he was long past petty crushes. And, he was someone that looked at him with  _ pity.  _ McCree was the person Genji wanted to hate, because he was the only person Genji wanted to like.

Well. 

Excepting the meetings he apparently had to attend, he didn’t expect he would be seeing much of McCree anymore.

That was what he  _ expected. _

But even Genji had to admit that he didn’t know the man well enough.

After tossing the emptied blood pack into the trash and powering his console back down into darkness, Genji heard a gentle knocking on his dormitory door. It was profoundly confusing at first, because he figured the only person that knew he was here was Gabriel, and the Commander was still out on a mission. Neighbors? He wasn’t even being loud… This time!

Genji got up and tiptoed his way to open the door, just a little. Just enough to peek.

Of course McCree was there.

He opened the door a little more, outwardly confused. “You…?”

“Howdy, pardner.” McCree lifted his hand in an awkwardly unsure half-wave, then let it drop to his side. “Uh … Did ya see I put your certification through?” 

Obviously he’d seen his certification went through. Genji’s eyebrows pressed down a little, and he was already squinting from the bright light of the hallway. “What did you want?”

“Well, it’s just …” McCree was fidgeting, drawing his thumb across the spur on the back of his holstered revolver to make it turn. He took a breath. “Genji, since Reyes isn’t here, I think that makes me your supervisor.” He gave no indication as to why he thought as much. “An’ I think that means that we should talk.” 

Genji prickled at that. He was never one to take to authority, if that was what was happening here. “As my  _ superior?” _

“As your friend,” McCree said. He holding his chin high, like he really wanted to come off as confident in what he said, but it didn’t really translate to tone. His fingers were still fidgeting with his gun’s spur. 

“Oh.” Honestly, Genji had no idea if he was still capable of flushing, but that’s probably what he would be doing if he could. “Okay.”

“Let’s walk,” McCree suggested, backing up a bit from Genji and gesturing behind him. “It’s real nice out.” 

Genji hadn’t been outside in three weeks, and the idea of actual fresh air was very appealing, so he gave a little nod and went to collect his keycard before following McCree out. He listened to the door slide shut behind him, and couldn’t help but betray a little yawn.

“Is your dorm okay?” McCree asked. “I had some trouble adjustin’ to mine at first. It felt too sterile.” Clearly, he hadn’t noticed the state of it behind Genji.

“Oh.” Not sterile anymore. “It’s fine. Small, but.” He shrugged.

“It’s better once you get decorations. Posters an’ stuff. An’ you should replace your beddin’ when you get the chance, that really helps.” He was stalling, that much was obvious. Making idle smalltalk so he wouldn’t have to discuss whatever he’d really come to talk with him about. Genji side-eyed him.

“I don’t spend a lot of time there for fun.”

“Well, you sleep there,” McCree pointed out. “It’s nicer if it’s somewhere you wanna be at the end a’ the day.” 

“I don’t sleep very much. What do you  _ want, _ McCree?”

McCree seemed to think on that for a long moment. They got all the way out of the residential block and onto the grounds before he said anything. The sun hadn’t quite set just yet, but a thick wall of clouds had rolled in that afternoon, leaving only dim, orange light to filter through. Nothing harmful. “I thought it might be good to talk about these outbursts you’ve been havin’,” McCree said. “An’ since I’ve been the target of them a few times now, I thought I should be the one to do it with you.” 

“Ah.” Suddenly, Genji regretted even asking. No, scratch that, he regretted even agreeing to this. No amount of fresh air could make him want to face the messes he’s made. He makes them a lot.

“I understand if you’re not comfortable talkin’ about it,” McCree allowed. “But if you don’t talk about it with me, you should talk about it with Reyes. Clearly, you’ve got some kinda problem with me, an’ as much as I like havin’ you around, I don’t think we can work together if ya don’t figure it out, y’know?” 

Build the wall, Genji. Don’t let it crack. Keep him out. “I know what I said…” 

“I know what you said too,” McCree said, sounding frustrated. “But I don’t  _ understand _ . If I owe you an apology, Genji, I ain’t too proud to give you one.” They were towards the edge of the base now, heading towards a thin, winding walking trail that lead through the woods behind. “But from where I’m standin’, I ain’t done  _ anythin’  _ wrong.”

Genji was getting just about as frustrated. He curled his arms in a cross across his chest and hunched. He wished he had his mask. “Of course you didn’t do anything wrong. You probably forgot everything as soon as you stepped on the plane,” he spat, pointedly looking away.

“What are you  _ talkin’ _ about?”

“You can’t even remember!” Genji stopped to turn on him, frustration lashing out like a burst on the sun. “You selfish bastard, do you even understand what you put me through?! Did you think about  _ anything _ when you left Hanamura! I bet it was just  _ paperwork  _ to you. I could hardly sleep anymore! I –” He bit his lip, and with his newly sharp fangs, it hurt a lot more than anticipated. He hissed and reached a hand up to his mouth, wincing.

“Shit, what do you want me to say?!” McCree asked, tossing his hands up into the air. “I’m  _ sorry  _ Talon roped you into that meetin’, an’ I’m  _ sorry  _ you had the bad luck a’ bein’ there when I was tryin’ to kill the guy who killed a dozen a’ my friends! Everythin’ that happened to you since then is fucked up an’ terrible an’ I’m  _ sorry _ , but you’re blamin’ me for it and it ain’t my fault! You think anythin’ would be different if we  _ hadn’t  _ met?” 

“Yes!” Genji shouted, pulling his blood-smeared hand away from his blood-smeared lips. “I do! Because if I can’t believe that –” He was cracking. The feeble little walls were breaking. “If I can’t believe  _ that _ –” Fuck, when did he become such a crybaby? He turned completely away, back to McCree, an armful of sleeve against his face. “Then,  _ what else do I have left?” _

There was a long, long stretch of silence. When McCree finally spoke, his voice was so much softer than it had been. More unsure. “I - I dunno … I don’t really understand,” he said. “I always had someone to blame, so I guess that’s somethin’ I can’t really  _ get _ . Genji, listen, if puttin’ this on me makes you feel that much better, then go on an’ keep doin’ it, I s’pose. An’ I’ll just leave you alone. Maybe I’m missin’ somethin’ though, but it doesn’t seem like it’s really makin’ you feel that much better at all.” 

The silence continued. Genji’s head felt like pandemonium, a marching band of emotions and a mosh pit of thoughts all colliding into one. He may have winced out loud again, it was so hard to tell against the ache, and the heartbeat throbbing in his ears. He took a steadying breath, and lowered his arm.

“I’m sorry,” he said. His walls were dust in the wind. “I’m – I’m  _ sorry.” _

“I wanna be your friend,” McCree said from behind him. 

Genji turned to look at him. He wondered if he looked as awful as he felt; half-awake, half-bloodied, half-crying. He tried a tiny smile, anyhow. “Why would you do that to yourself?”

McCree was leaned back against a tree trunk. He shrugged, just slightly. “‘Cause I like your company, when you ain’t yellin’ at me,” he said, tone soft, gently teasing. “‘Cause I liked practicin’ with you. ‘Cause I want to. ‘Cause I think you need one. How many ya want?” 

“Friends,” Genji said quietly, feeling the word in his mouth. “Okay.”

McCree pushed off the tree, tentatively taking a few steps towards him. “An’, feel free to say no to this, but as your friend, you look like you could use a hug.” 

Now Genji knew vampires could blush. His cheeks felt hot as he looked away, hesitating on that offer. The part of his mind that craved genuine positive touch and the part of his mind that was so averse battled between each other like samurai to the death. Finally, with his hands curled into his sleeves, he shook his head. “I – I don’t think so.”

“Alrighty. No pressure,” McCree assured. “Just … If ya ever do feel like you need just, y’know, someone for anythin’, I’m around. Okay?” 

“Yeah.” Genji scratched his cheek a little. “Can we… keep going?”

“Oh! Y-yeah, a’ course.” McCree gestured him along. “C’mon. Sorry, I s’pose I was kinda distracted.” 

So Genji walked alongside McCree through the forest. It was cooling on his body, the air like a filter to his lungs. And the sounds of nature were easier to hear, not half as grating as clacking heels or stomping boots against vinyl floor. Just soft swaying of branches and sleepy animals, the gentle crunch of the pathway as the two of them walked along. Maybe he could take advantage of the long nights. Maybe he could have a little peace.

After a comfortable silence between them, Genji looked over at McCree. The question came before he even had the sense to stop it. “Did you really forget?”

“There was nothin’ for me to forget,” McCree said, looking sheepish. “I figured I was just … Some guy you had a weird night with. If you’re askin’ me if I ever forgot about  _ you _ , a’ course I didn’t.” 

Genji felt hot embarrassment in his belly. “Ah. Right. Of course.”

McCree rubbed his arm. “Sorry. This has been my life for so long, sometimes I forget how weird it must be for new people. I guess you probably thought about it a lot.” 

An understatement, really. Genji could hardly stop thinking about how the world changed before his eyes. Everyone he looked at, people in his own home town, people he knew since he was a child. People in the clan. Hell, the elders, Hanzo, even his own damn  _ self. _ Everything could be so different at only a moment’s notice. And to make matters worse, it wasn’t the first time his perspective of the world changed so violently. Just the strangest.

But, Genji’s embarrassment grew hotter, because he didn’t want to admit that  _ that _ wasn’t what he was talking about.

Not the bad things.

The day after. The running through a snowy parking lot, warm hands held together, flirting in a cute cafe, playing like children in an arcade. An almost-kiss goodbye. He wondered if McCree forgot about  _ those. _

Now, his belly was cold. Because he supposed he really had.

“Not really,” Genji finally muttered, looking down at the gravel.

“To me it was just –” McCree paused, chuckled like he was admitting something embarrassing, and continued, “To me it was just another day at the office, right? Stuff like that happens on missions all the time. Well, maybe not all the time, but you get what I mean. I didn’t think of it much at all. Honestly, the day after was more memorable than the night before.” 

Genji couldn’t tell if it was his heartbeat that was throbbing in his ears, or McCree’s. But it was really rather distracting. He rubbed around his neck. “Do you think?”

“Sure,” he nodded. “It was nice. Actually, I –” McCree paused again. This time he didn’t continue. 

Genji looked up at him. McCree seemed to ignore the look for a moment, but he explained soon enough. 

“I kept wonderin’ if I should come visit you when you were in the hospital, an’ I decided I shouldn’t, ‘cause I figured I was just a guy you went on a date with that one time. But  _ it  _ kept beggin’ me to, anyway.” 

“It?”

“Y’know,  _ it _ .” He tapped his head. “Wolf. That thing. It likes you a lot. Even when I was pretty pissed off at ya.” 

“I tried to kill you.”

“It was confused, but not mad.” 

Genji laughed. He couldn’t help it, the laughter bubbled out of him before he even noticed it was coming. “That’s ridiculous!”

McCree just smiled at him. His eyes flashed gold, but he shook his head and they were back to brown. “It’s pretty stupid.”

It was kind of funny. All of those questions that night, and these few weeks in Blackwatch, and yet Genji knew almost nothing about werewolves. Or were-anything, really.

He blinked over at McCree as they walked.

“So ‘it’ is different from you? Do you hear it think?” He asked, emboldened a little to show his curiosity.

“Kind of,” McCree began, rubbing the back of his neck shyly, like he was embarrassed to speak of it. “It’s kind of like … This voice in the back a’ your head. It’s different from me. It wants different things an’ reacts differently but it’s in the backseat, so me, right now, I’m all Jesse. Sometimes I feel somethin’ it’s feelin’ or get these thoughts in my head that I know are its. I know it’s a lil’ different for people who were born weres, like Cohen.”

“How so?”

“I can’t explain that one as well, ‘cause it ain’t my personal experience. But it should be obvious, right? Like … Imagine bein’ born sharin’ your body with this other thing versus  _ suddenly  _ sharin’ your body with this thing when you weren’t before.”

Genji looked down at the blood on his hand. He knew what McCree was talking about wasn’t quite the same thing. He probably could never imagine what it was like. But he still somehow felt like … he could relate to it. It felt like there was a beast inside of him sometimes. Whatever it was that caused him to panic when he felt hunger, and lose control of himself. Whatever it was that made his hearing so acute, like a predator.

McCree carried on in spite of no further questioning. “The more like a wolf I look, that’s more Wolf in the driver’s seat. So, you’ve seen me before moons, an’ I’ve got the ears an’ all, that’s ‘cause he gets louder an’ better at pushin’ me into the passenger seat the fuller the moon is. I like new moons.” 

“And on a full moon, you lose yourself,” Genji guessed quietly.

“That’s right.” He nodded. “Accordin’ to some a’ the other weres, if you get along with whatever you’re sharin’ with, full moons are as cooperative as any other time. But I don’t. So they ain’t.” 

“I don’t blame you,” Genji said quietly, shoving his hands back into his hoodie pockets.

McCree chuckled, and he reached into his pocket to pull out a box of cigarettes. He held it out to Genji in offering. “Wanna smoke?”

Could he smoke, anymore? He supposed there would be little harm in trying. Genji took one of the offered smokes and held it to be lighted. “Let me guess,” he deadpanned. “You took me out here because you can’t smoke on base.”

“Maybe,” McCree said, grinning around the cigarette between his lips. He clicked his lighter a few times until it caught, then lit his and Genji’s. He took a drag before he spoke again. “All the same though, ain’t it? Y’know, maybe you’ve got more sense about supernatural stuff than I was givin’ you credit for. Here’s a tip: don’t ask someone  _ what  _ they are, like ya did at the meetin’. No one minds, ‘cause you’re new, but it’s considered kinda rude. But you also ain’t asked me the big stupid question non-magic folks like to ask, so I think you win those points back.” 

“Which is?”

“‘How did ya get turned?’”

“... Ah. Makes sense, I suppose,” Genji mumbled around his embarrassment. And here he was once the socialite. Now he couldn’t help but make a fool of himself. “This is all just … strange.”

“Look on the bright side,” McCree said. “It’s a supportive environment, at least.” 

“Overbearing,” Genji corrected.

“Better than the alternative.” 

“That would be closer what I’m used to.”

McCree just shook his head. “I s’pose.”

Their walking stopped at the base of a big tree. It had some old scratches across the trunk, worn-in, weathered. While he breathed out a puff of smoke, Genji couldn’t keep himself from tracing his fingers against the indents. It would take something big to do this. He wondered just how big McCree got on full moons. He wondered how big a  _ werebear _ could get. Once fantastical, and now they were tangible questions to wonder. The dissonance.

“So, honestly, I was kinda nervous about comin’ to talk to you. But I figured I ought’a do it, ‘cause I’m goin’ away on that mission pretty soon.”

Genji blinked at him. “Oh. I had forgotten.”

That was a lie. He didn’t forget. But he’d been so caught up between wishing McCree would just be gone already and hoping he would stay that it felt a lot better to lie.

“It’s gonna be a couple weeks, but hey, excitin’ news, I’m gonna be headin’ it,” he said. And he sounded so very proud of himself. 

A little smirk formed on Genji’s lips. “Because of me?”

He chuckled. “Yep! Angela’s a great doctor, but broken bones are broken bones for humans. I talked to Reyes; he said he wanted me to co-lead with Larkin, but since he’s outta commission.” McCree shrugged. He was smiling very genuinely. 

So Genji’s smirk became a smile in return. “You’re welcome.”

“Thanks,” McCree laughed. “Did ya hear what ended up happenin’ to him?”

“No?”

“Suspended, three months, no pay.” McCree’s smile grew wider, into a bright grin. “That’s the punishment Reyes told me he recommended to Morrison, anyhow. An’ Morrison usually don’t bother arguin’ with Reyes about that kinda stuff.”

“I’m so pleased to be your sacrificial lamb.” Genji tilted his head a little. “Do you know what you will be doing?”

“Yeah, I’m takin’ a group a’ baby Overwatch recruits out on their first group field mission. It ain’t nothin’ too intense, just a mite bit a’ espionage an’ surveillance. Nothin’ up close an’ no real danger, provided everythin’ goes accordin’ to plan.” 

“Well...” Genji dragged on the cigarette to buy a little time. He had to figure out a way to word his thoughts that didn’t sound so … much. After puffing out, he offered, “Try to accord to the plan, then. For your sake.”  _ For mine. _

McCree’s smile didn’t falter, but a new spark came to his eyes. Not the golden spark, but a spark that was all his own. “Here,” he said, digging in his pocket until he found his phone. “Give me your number. I’ll program it into my communicator an’ I’ll call so ya know I’m okay. Alright?”

Genji flustered. “Oh, I – I don’t have –”

“Alright, just gimme the number on your ID card then, an’ I’ll hook our communicators up.”

Hooking up their comms together. A younger Genji would have made a joke about commitment. Current Genji could only fish his card out of his pocket and straight-arm it over to McCree.

He took it, humming as he did, and typed the number into a note on his phone. “There! Careful when you use the communicator by the way. Their default settin’ is pretty loud; you’ll hurt your ears if you don’t turn it down ‘fore you talk to me.”

“Oh. Sure,” Genji said, dumbly. “Thanks, McCree.”

“No worries. I know it’s nice to have a lil extra security.”

“Hey. Ah …”

“Yeah?”

“I really …  mean it. Be safe. Okay?”

“Don’t you worry, _darlin’._ I always am.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Nami:** Happy Halloween, everybody! Have possibly our least spooky chapter yet. I bet you all thought it was Jesse that was the quick fallin' gay huehuehue  
>  And **Charlie** says: ;w;


	9. Be Safe

There was something to be said for the sleeping schedule of a vampire. It allowed Genji the ability to do a thing he never did, not in his entire adult life. He could see the world before the sunrise. A sleepy, slow-moving time where every diurnal person that was awake was surely resenting their reason for being so. 

That was what Genji got to observe first-hand, watching from his perch in the transport bay. Several sleepless recruits in blue following along behind a McCree that looked just about as sleepless and who was clad in just as much blue, though with a travel mug in hand. The bitter smell of black coffee drifted from it. They were making their route to the transport that was gearing up for departure.

Genji never intended to be seen, settled up on the crates, keeping to the darkest corner. In fact, he’d really rather he wasn’t. Coming here to see them all off had only been a product of his nightly boredom. Not sentimentality. That was what he told himself.

It didn’t stop one of the recruits from spotting the glow of his red eyes watching them. They tapped on McCree’s shoulder. Genji held his breath. McCree looked over, recognition coming to him immediately.

_ Busted. _

“Genji?” He called up.

Flustered at being caught, Genji lifted his cloth mask up over his nose and ducked his head. “McCree.”

McCree gestured to his flock, telling them to go and board. None of them did. They all watched, huddled like penguins. Nonetheless, he approached and asked, “What’cha doin’ here?”

Genji slipped nimbly off of his perch and landed, weightless, in front of him. He wished the half-moment it took to do so was enough time to think of a good excuse. Unfortunately, only the truth came. “You said you were leaving this morning.”

It was enough to blossom a smile onto McCree’s face. “You came to say goodbye?”

“I could leave if you prefer.”

“‘Course not. It’s good to see you.”

Genji rubbed the side of his neck at that, glancing away. “Blue doesn’t suit you.” 

McCree snorted around a sip of his coffee. “I know.”

By then, it was getting pretty hard for Genji to ignore the recruits behind them, doubtlessly  _ revelling _ in the gossip of their superior talking to a  _ stranger _ . Was there really nothing more interesting to talk about in a base full of magical freaks? Then again, he supposed he was one of them now. He stared back, anyway. It spurred McCree to look over, and that was enough embarrassment for the lot of them to finally skitter onto the transport. McCree rolled his eyes, but he seemed mostly amused.

“Your little charges?” Genji asked.

“That’s right. I get to be their mother hen for awhile.”

“Are they all… human?”

“Yeah, Overwatch agents usually tend to be.”

“And you’re comfortable with that?”

“Sure.” McCree nodded. “I work with humans all the time.”

Genji figured, with a melancholy, that their troubles weren’t exactly the same. Why wouldn’t McCree be comfortable? He didn’t suffer the same sickening cravings and intrusive thoughts that Genji did. He was experienced with human fragility, and if he heard the constant pulse of blood rushing in his ears, it probably didn’t even phase him.

Only to mount Genji’s melancholy was the realization that he  _ was _ a human a mere month ago. Now, they were something abstract. Blood-filled fountains made of glass. And he couldn’t stand to be around them.

“I’ll call you, alright?” McCree broke him from his somber thoughts. “On the comms.”

Genji simply nodded.

“Try not to get into any trouble while I’m gone, pardner.”

As McCree turned to make his own way on to the transport, Genji felt the sudden and urgent need to call after him, “Remember what I told you!” McCree smiled at him over his shoulder and offered a casual, two fingered salute.

_ Be safe. _

 

The day following was eventless for Genji. There was things he was  _ meant _ to do. He was meant to be seeing the head of the Overwatch division, Strike-Commander Morrison, to debrief about his former clan. To formulate some sort of plan going forward. But as Genji made his way through the irritably sterile and bright Overwatch hallways, it was only to be informed that Morrison had something come up, and he was too busy to see him at the moment.

If there was something to sour Genji’s apathy.

He stalked his way back to the Blackwatch dormitories. There was nowhere else he could go, reasonably. With the sun in the sky outside, he couldn’t walk. He couldn’t use the facilities on the roof. There was the indoor gym, but the thought of being around so many others on his own still made him uncomfortable.

Never did he expect to miss those gun training lessons.

As he came to his room and navigated the labyrinth of broken furniture to his bed, Genji lamented just how pathetic he’d become. Day and night, surrounded by darkness, left alone. One friend – one unsure, tenuous friendship – that wasn’t even here to provide unsure, tenuous comfort. No purpose driving him. Nothing.

Laid back against his pillow, he wondered if vampires could sleep enough to curb the exhaustion he felt.

 

_ Beep! Beep! Beep! _

Genji jolted upwards.

He’d been resting relatively soundly when a ringing in his ear blasted. So loud that he cringed and pawed helplessly at his ear whilst swearing in Japanese. He found a button in the earpiece he wore that stopped the sound, blessedly. Not only that, but it was followed by a whispered voice.

“Y’alright?”

McCree? Genji struggled, with his groggy, foggy brain, to figure out why the hell he was hearing McCree’s voice. And why  _ so loud? _ But bit by bit, remembrance came. Right. He’d connected their comms together. Somehow, even still, even if he promised to, Genji did not really expect the cowboy to call.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, rubbing his drooping eyes. “Just jarring.”

A pause, then McCree’s voice again, whispering, “Forget to turn the volume down?” 

It wasn’t teasing or accusatory, sympathetic even, but Genji grumpily muttered, “It doesn’t matter.” He dialed the volume down.

“How’s things back on base? Bet it’s borin’ without me or the boss bein’ there.” There was a smile in McCree’s voice. 

“Things are the same as they were this morning. I spend daytime in my room.”

“What time is it there? It’s past lights out over here.” 

To answer, Genji had to contort a little in his spot. His toppled-over clock was neglected from ever being picked up again, so he viewed the time sideways, and slightly faced away. “Nearing five.”

“Any plans for the evenin’?”

“What plans could I have with no one on base to bother me?”

McCree laughed, a sharp noise quickly muffled. “Do we bother you?”

Genji could hardly keep himself from smiling, just a little. “You bother my peace.”

“Well, I’m so very sorry. Would ya like me to stop?” McCree teased, the ghost of a chuckle still on his breath.

“Yes, both of you.”

“Ah, see the unfortunate thing there is, as much as you don’t gotta talk to me, you do work for him.”

To that, Genji gave a derisive snort. “Not that he has given me much in terms of work.”

“He’s just worried,” McCree said. “I was in trainin’ almost a year ‘fore he let me go on missions without him supervisin’.”

“A year. Joy.”

“Well, he let me go on missions before that. Just not without him.”

Genji didn’t have anything to say to that, hard-staring into the darkness. He knew they were two different situations, and Jesse was held back from missions for a different reason than Genji. He allowed their conversation to lapse into silence.

McCree was the one to break the quiet – “I’m sure it ain’t gonna be too awful long. Reyes wants you out there.”

“Talk about me, do you?”

“Some. As much as any a’ the other agents. You’re part a’ the family now, y’know, dad likes to gossip.” 

It didn’t feel quite so funny to Genji. He prickled. “Quite a way to instill  _ trust. _ ”

“Sorry. I don’t mean it like that. He’s only had good things to say about you.”

Only more silence from the vampire, who sulked quietly by himself. He wasn’t a part of any family. He had a family. Once upon a time, it was a happy one. Now it was broken and dead and gone. That didn’t mean he could just replace it.

The silence lapsed longer this time, awkwardly. McCree’s soft breathing on the other end of the comm line was the only indication he hadn’t hung up. Finally, he said, “He, uh … He said he thinks you’re really talented. An’ he’s impressed by how well you’ve been doin’ in trainin’.”

Genji was beginning to get annoyed with the topic, so he rather abruptly interrupted, “What is your mission?”

“Oh, uh …” McCree stumbled a bit, apparently caught off guard by the sudden change. “I’m teachin’ these guppies how to do an infiltration. Overwatch is makin’ some arrests, an’ blah blah blah mission brief blah blah. It’s borin’ compared to what we’re usually doin’. All on the up an’ up, no magic or nothin’. I’ll bet you’ll hear about it on the news reels tomorrow.”

“So you’re something of an infiltration specialist, then.”

“I’m a man a’ many talents.” 

That was enough to cause Genji to laugh, even slightly.

McCree spoke again quickly, his voice sounding eager and warm, “Aha, y’see, I –” Then there was a sound like something smacking against the comm. Not hard, but hard enough to be heard, and to cut McCree’s words off with an ‘oof!’

Another voice spoke then, deep and lightly accented in French. It said in a whisper-shout, “Sir! Shut up and sleep!” 

With laughter already slipping through the cracks of Genji’s sour mood, it wasn’t hard for him to continue bubbling with it through McCree’s reprimanding. “Busted?” He asked.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “It’s past lights out. One a’ my recruits threw a pillow at me, which I s’pose is my cue to stop buggin’ you for tonight.”

“Sure.” Genji nodded, even if the cowboy couldn’t see it, and reached to click his comm off.

 

The night was a much more comfortable time for Genji. It allowed him more freedom. After feeding, his nerves were smoothed down enough to even consider himself  _ content,  _ if it were possible. He decided often to use this energy on the roof, enjoying the fresh air that the night had to offer, while he measured his provided practice sword up against the range robots. 

It was easier to spar against machines. They had no heartbeats, edging his nerves one solid thump at a time. Only cold steel that crumbled as he sliced. Breakable, but not hurting anyone. No sickening cracks of bone, no shouts of pain.

Genji rubbed his chin of a bead of sweat, panting.

Suppose that was enough tonight. The sun was rising soon, anyway.

After getting himself cleaned up and changed in his room, another blood pack down, mailbox checked, Genji made his way towards the Overwatch hallways for round two. He hoped that  _ this _ time Morrison could spare a moment for a lowly creature such as himself. He didn’t think he could take another day of nothing and depression naps.

Arriving at the Strike-Commander’s office, he knocked.

“Come in.” Jack Morrison sat at his desk, eyes sweeping over files on his holoscreen. He took a long gulp of coffee from a mug that said something that was left unreadable because his hand curled around it, covering the letters except for ‘-yest’. He looked up after a half-moment, the corner of his lips rising into a smile. “Agent Genji. You’re looking better.”

Genji did not smile to return the favor. In fact, he pulled his mask up as he came in, as uncomfortable in the sleek whiteness of this division as he always was.

“From when I was half-dead on a slab,” he said, deadpan.

Morrison blinked. “Well … Are you ready to answer a couple questions for me?” He gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

Genji sat. “Yes, go ahead.” Not as though he could say no at this point.

“How have you been adjusting to the base?”

“Fine.”

“Good,” Morrison nodded. “Have you been getting along well with your new teammates?”

“I… suppose.” Genji had to wonder what the hell these questions mattered. He never spoke to his colleagues. They were only colleagues in the most thin sense of the word, anyway, seeing as how his entire employment thus far had been sitting around and training sometimes. He had his tutor, but he never spoke to her beyond what she lectured him about vampirism. At least he wasn’t trying to kill McCree anymore, there was that.

Morrison set his mug down on the desk. The text read in bright, cheerful letters, ‘World’s Okayest Boss!’. “Do you remember what happened before you were brought here?”

“Are you asking me about – …”

“You don’t need to answer if you don’t feel ready.”

Genji was very suddenly, and very uncomfortably, aware of Morrison’s heartbeat. It wasn’t particularly fast. He didn’t suspect that the Strike-Commander was nervous or frightful or anything. But it was so … conspicuous. Pounding against his ears. He shifted in his seat, desperate to create any other sound in the silent room.

“There is only pieces. It … It is difficult to put together. I was home, in my home. I was walking through the grand hall, but … something was wrong. There was someone there. At the time I recognized who. Not now. They pulled a blade –” He had to stop, suddenly choked. His fingers were gripping the bottom of his seat so tightly that the slow crack of the plastic was audible. Still better than the heartbeat.

Morrison looked alarmed. “Agent Genji? Do you want to take a break? Maybe we should continue this some other time.”

“We just started,” Genji said, staring hard at his lap.

“It’s alright. You look like you could use some air. We can do this later.”

“I can  _ handle _ it!”

Silence. Morrison looked away, a little frown on his lips. “Alright … Do you have any thoughts as to who might have done this?”

_ Thump, thump, thump. _

“No. Well I – … it must have been someone in the clan.” Feeling pathetic, he quietly said, “Someone … in the family. I know that much is useless.”

“It’s not useless, nothing is useless,” Morrison said. 

“How could that possibly be worth anything?”

“Knowing it’s someone from inside the clan narrows it down a lot, Agent Genji.”

Nothing about it felt very narrowing. Did this man even realize how vast the Shimada empire was? Genji closed his eyes to his frustration that mounted with every throb, and the crack of the chair continued. “I don’t remember anything else.”

“It’s good that you remember anything at all. Like I said, anything is useful.”

Part of Genji knew that it wasn’t Morrison’s intention, but most of him felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. Good.  _ Good!  _ Good that he had this painful story behind a painful reminder of a body! He began to erupt, like gasoline into flame. “ _ Is _ it good that I remember, Commander?” He raised his voice, grip tightening. “I will see if I can’t remember even  _ more _ for you!”

_ Snap. _

The chair finally broke under his touch. He stood abruptly, both startled by his strength and consumed in his irrational fury.

Morrison looked stunned, eyes widening a little, mouth slightly agape. “Genji, that isn’t what I –”

Genji didn’t wait for more. He turned from the Strike-Commander’s office and left, leaving behind just the gentle click of the closing door. He’d hoped being out of there would help, but he could still hear it. Slightly accelerated.  _ Thump, thump. _ But not just from Morrison, now he could hear it in other rooms, down the hallway. Maybe his own. But not only that. The shuffle of papers with it, tap of keypads, roll of chairs. Coughs. Heels on the floor.  _ Clack, clack, clack.  _ He gripped his head, barely even looking as he half-ran. Just out of this fucking wing. He just needed out.

One last noise joined the cacophony. A gentle beeping in his ear. He tapped at it, quickly, barely thinking.

“McCree?”

“Howdy Genji.” McCree sounded at ease. Normal. Not whispering like the night before. “How’re things?”

“Yeah,” Genji muttered. Then, confused, “Ah. Wait … what was that? I-I didn’t … ”

“I asked how things are. Is everythin’ okay?” 

“It’s … hard to hear. There’s – There’s so much noise.”

“Hey, Genji.” McCree’s voice changed, not so even and easy. Firm. Concerned. “Focus on my voice. Can you do that?”

And so Genji focused. It was difficult, like trying to cut through a frozen block, but he tried. When he found an empty hallway, he came to a stop and pressed his back against a wall. “Okay. Okay … ” Just hear McCree’s voice. He could do that. He could single it out.

“Good,” McCree soothed. “Now take a deep breath.” 

So Genji did. He was surprised by just how shakey it came out of him.

“And another.” 

Another. This one was a little smoother.

“You’re doin’ good. One more for me, please.”

So one last breath came, in and out. Steadier, slower, easier. “Okay.”

“That’s real good. D’ya wanna talk about it?”

Slowly, Genji slid down the wall until he was sitting, nursing his newly-clearing head in his hands. “Do you remember,” he began slowly, “When you told me … that the question you’re never supposed to ask is, ‘how did you turn?’”

“I remember.”

“What if it was necessary to answer that for your job?” He pressed his palm to his eye. “How would that make you feel?”

“Terrible.” The line went silent for a moment, but then McCree continued. “Genji, you don’t gotta tell anyone anythin’. That’s your business.” 

“I do. Apparently it is important to my job.”

“Who was even askin’ you? Reyes wouldn’t ask that.”

“Morrison.”

“Morrison? You don’t work for that corn-fed asshole. Morrison can get fucked.”

Genji betrayed the tiniest breath of a laugh. “Morrison  _ can _ get fucked.”

“If he asks you anythin’ you don’t wanna answer, tell him to eat shit.”

More than a breath this time. Genji chuckled.

“That always works for me when he’s actin’ like a dickhead.”

Pushing up to stand, Genji asked quietly, “What have you been doing?” As he made his way toward the Blackwatch dormitories.

“Showin’ the guppies the ropes, like I said,” McCree explained. “We made some arrests this mornin’. Things’re kinda … Weird. Some hiccups. But mostly fine. Some a’ the recruits are really impressive! Yu had some great input durin’ our tactics plannin’ session, an’ Riva’s a real sharpshooter.”

It was nice to listen. A little distraction from everything else as he neared the door to his room. Slipping inside felt a little more like escaping from stress when McCree’s voice followed beside. He flopped down onto his bed, sighing, and felt his entire body land heavily against the mattress.

“Reyes should be back on base soon.”

" … Do you hear them, too?" Genji quietly asked, abrupt, as he curled onto his side.

“Hear what?”

“The heartbeats.”

“Ah …” McCree was quiet for just a second before he said, “Not usually. Sometimes if it’s real quiet though, an’ someone’s heart is poundin’.”

"I  _ always _ do." Genji nearly whispered. "And what is worse is … what is worse –”

“What’s worse is …?” 

"How it makes me  _ feel _ ..."

“Because it makes you thirsty?” McCree asked, voice soft.

It made Genji cringe into himself. He was quiet. That was his confirmation.

“Genji, I want you to listen to me, good an’ close.” McCree’s voice was firm again, like it had been in the hallway.

Genji pulled down his mask and rubbed at his face, but he listened.

"You are  _ not _ your urges. Those things that pop into your head, those feelin's, they don't  _ matter _ . What matters is what you do. You ain't doin' anythin' wrong."   
"How can't they matter?” Genji felt his voice become desperate, cracking under the threat of tears. “It could happen  _ any moment _ when I lose myself..."

“Don’t think about it like that. If you let yourself get all caught up in thoughts you ain’t got any control over, you don’t really get to live. You don’t like those thoughts, right? You hate havin’ ‘em? Then they don’t say anythin’ about you! Actions matter. Your brain’s impulses mean nothin’.” 

In the darkness, Genji stared at his hands, distorted from the thin film of tears in his eyes. He found himself nodding to McCree’s words, even if he couldn’t see it.

“You’re a good person, Genji.”

Sniffle. “You don’t know me.”

“I know you’re tryin’.”

Genji sighed, and rolled himself onto his back again. “I’m… I’m glad your mission is going well.”

“Maybe I can convince Reyes to let you tag along next time.”

“... Wouldn’t it be inconvenient?”

“Why would it be?” 

“I can’t be in the sun,” Genji offered.

“I prefer night time missions anyhow,” McCree countered. 

“I need to feed.”

“We can bring bags.” 

The persistence. Genji couldn’t keep the smile from his lips. “Fine, fine. If you insist.”

“Good. I bet you’ll be a good field partner.” 

“Ah, you  _ really _ don’t know me,” he teased.

“I know enough! I’m good at readin’ people,” McCree laughed.

“Apparently not.”

“Hush.” He chuckled. “I know what I’m doin’.” 

There was a silence, but a soft one. A lull as Genji looked up at his ceiling in thought. “Are you done for the day?” He asked after a moment.

“Yeah, we wrapped up a lil while ago.” 

“Can you do me a favor and just … talk?”

McCree paused, but his voice was warm when he did answer, “Yeah. I can do that.” He talked for a long time, mostly about nothing. He talked about the unexciting arrests they’d made that morning. He talked about his most promising ‘guppies’ again, Yu and Riva. Both of them would surely have bright futures in the organization. Yu, he said, he could see her being a good leader someday. And Riva, he wanted to offer them sharpshooting lessons, help them hone their skills like Captain Amari was helping him. That led him into telling Genji about some of the other folks on base he’d probably get to know in the future, Captain Amari included. He’d started on a tangent about Captain Amari’s daughter, Fareeha, when Genji peacefully dozed off. 

A few short hours later, and he woke again. Never long for a vampire. Surprise to him, however, there was the sound of gentle breathing, even light snoring, in his ear. So McCree never hung up their line. A small warmth pooled in Genji’s chest as he reached up and quietly clicked his comm off.

_ Sleep well. _

 

Reyes returned to base a couple days later, and naturally that meant that Genji would have his  _ pleasant peace _ bothered. He was almost eager as he crossed through the Blackwatch halls to the Commander’s office and stepped inside.

The scene was nearly deja vu, Reyes sipping from a mug of coffee while browsing files on his holoscreen. He glanced up at Genji’s arrival and set his drink aside. His mug read in bright, cheerful letters, ‘World’s Best Boss!’.

“Genji, how’re you doing, kid?” 

Genji took a seat at the desk and pulled his usual cloth mask down to his neck. “I’m fine. You wanted to see me?”

“Yeah. I just wanted to ask if anything happened while I was gone.”

"I'm certain you would have heard about it."

“Well, see, the thing is is that I  _ did  _ hear about it.” Reyes raised his eyebrows. Genji felt his whole posture flatten.  _ Morrison. _ He neglected to say anything to that, just looking away with nearly a pout. 

His lack of answer seemed to prompt Reyes to continue. “Jack said you seemed upset.”

“Well.” Genji raised a hand to rub irritatedly at his cheek. Maybe even embarrassedly. He did feel like a child getting a scolding. “Why would I not be upset.”

“He isn’t the best at dealing with my recruits sometimes.”

"If he cannot deal with people, then  _ perhaps _ he should not be in the position he is in.”

Reyes chuckled. “He’s fine with people. Just not people who work for me.” 

"It won't be a problem next time. McCree offered his own advice."

“Oh, did he now? And what was it?”

“He said, ‘tell him to eat shit’.” Even repeating it made Genji’s lips twitch upward.

Reyes burst out laughing. “That does sound like Jesse.”

“It works for me.” The vampire shifted a little, smile disappearing. “Though, I do want something to come of this.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“The whole point of my being here. You said it yourself. I get  _ even. _ ”

Reyes rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Well, you know that wasn’t the entire point of hiring you.” 

Genji blinked.

“You didn’t think I offered you the job just for that, did you? I wasn’t about to let someone get turned and then just throw them out on the street, kiddo, you should know that by now. Half the point of you staying was to make sure you’d be okay.” 

“So I was hired for revenge, and babysitting,” he deadpanned.

Reyes just smiled. “Call it what you want. But I’m glad you didn’t run off on us. You had something you wanted to talk about, though. Getting even. What’s on your mind?” 

“I-I don’t really know. I know that there is a fire in me that is burning for some sort of vengeance, but I still don’t know against  _ who.  _ I … just can’t remember.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to remember in time, if that’s what you want.” 

“‘In time’ isn’t quick enough.” Genji rubbed his forehead. “Who knows where they could be, how far they could get by the day. What if we can never find them?”

Reyes picked up his mug to take a sip as he considered that. His eyebrows pressed together in sympathy, but as he pulled his mug away, he said, “It doesn’t really matter if ‘in time’ isn’t quick enough. You can’t force this to go any faster.” 

To that, Genji clamped his mouth shut. He didn’t have any argument to that. Reyes was right. There was nothing he could do. It didn’t stem the flow of his frustration or restlessness or ease the trouble in his soul, but it was right. He merely sighed.

“I get it,” Reyes told him. “I really do. Wanting to get back at someone for hurting you and not being able to … But –” Reyes raised a finger. “Right  _ now _ , you need to be focusing on you. There’s nothing that should be more important to you than yourself. You gotta figure all this out before you worry too much about anything else.” 

“What am I meant to  _ figure out? _ ”

“You tell me. What’s eating you?”

“I – Ah, well, I – ”

Genji did not get to finish that thought. There came a frantic knocking against Reyes’ office door. “Commander Reyes! I need to speak with you at once!” A deep voice, accented lightly in French.

“What is it?” Reyes called, standing. 

A young man dressed in Overwatch blues stood wide-eyed and panicked as the door slid open. He clutched at his own coat, fingers knotting tightly in the fabric. “T-they told me to come get you, right away. You’re supposed to come to the medbay.” 

Genji tilted in his seat, curious.

“What’s going on?” Reyes asked, though he was already grabbing his things to leave. 

“It’s McCree,” the young man said. “We just got back. He got really hurt. The doctor said something about a silver bullet and – ”

No more voices. Suddenly, nothing. All Genji heard was the throbbing, torturous sound of three racing heartbeats. His own, perhaps, the fastest of all.

_ McCree. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE'RE BAAAAAACK
> 
> Since we've been gone a while, a bit of housekeeping! 
> 
> A big, big shoutout to our beta reader, Manolo! You can find him as calaverita on Ao3, auttoton on Tumblr, and autolikescake on Twitter
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> twitter @ charlieash  
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>  
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> Thank you so much for all the love and support this fic has received! We look forward to writing more!


	10. Silver Bullet

Contrary to popular belief, it’s really not that hard to kill a werewolf. Any regular bullet can kill them just like it can kill a human, provided you shoot them somewhere a natural ability to heal won’t be all that much help with. Still, that’s not easy unless you’re a good shot. Jesse’s a good shot. He could kill almost anything with a regular bullet, if he had to. Werewolves included. The average grunt working for Talon is not that good of a shot. Silver bullets, while not a necessity, are insurance. 

Even so, better he take it than one of his recruits.

What he remembered of the last few hours was limited. The better part of the afternoon seemed to focus in on the one moment of brilliantly bright agony as the silver bullet bored its way into his gut - everything after that felt once removed, blurry and dim and not quite there. He could hear voices, feel the vague impression of a hand somewhere on his body, but none of it made sense. 

Lots of hands on him. Weightlessness, but only for a second, lights popping behind his eyes at the feeling of pressure on his belly. Things were probably clearer in the moment, but his memory of the events folded in on itself strangely. Different hands, weightless again, and then something soft beneath his back. Still more pressure. And then voices, but voices that made sense. His brain plucked them out of the static, because they were voices that mattered. The gurney jerked to a halt.

“What - what  _ happened?”  _ Was that directed at him? He wasn’t sure, but he knew the voice. It made him and the wolf both perk up from where they’d internally huddled themselves away from the pain in his stomach, vision focusing enough to take in the two wide, red eyes gazing down at him. He wanted to answer, really, but when he opened his mouth, all that came out was an incoherent little noise from somewhere in his chest. He tried to smile instead, to reassure. 

The voice became unsteady, trembling over itself. “What did you do, what  _ happened?!” _

“Genji, let go of the gurney.” Gabe, voice steady and gentle. Jesse couldn’t see the man from where he was focusing on Genji’s eyes, but he did see a hand curl over Genji’s arm. “Now isn’t the time, kid. Let Angela take care of him.” 

“You said you would be safe!”

Jesse frowned. He thought he  _ would  _ be safe. It was supposed to be a simple mission, but … “Talon -” His voice sounded croaky and feeble to even his own ears, explanation cutting off with just the one word as he curled in on himself to cough. 

Genji’s voice echoed Jesse’s word, but with a frightful edge. “Talon?! There wasn’t supposed to  _ be _ \- ”

“ _ Genji _ , come on.” Gabe again, and this time the hand on Genji’s arm tightened and tugged, urging him back from the gurney. With nothing interesting in his field of view anymore, Jesse allowed his eyes to flutter shut, the only thing on his mind being  _ rest _ .

 

When Jesse did open his eyes again, he almost immediately squinted them back shut. Why did the medbay have to be so bright? The fluorescents glared off every shiny, white surface, the sterile lighting teaming up with the mingling scent of cleaning products to assault his senses with unpleasantness. 

He blinked his eyes open slower this time, trying to let his pupils adjust. He noticed Angela first, back to him, ruffled blonde ponytail instantly recognizable. He tipped his head to the side and saw Gabe, a miniature workstation established in the corner of the room with several tiny tables all pulled together to hold his laptop and mug (presumably full of over-sweetened coffee.) It was the one Jesse had gotten him two birthdays ago, the one with a picture of a dog dressed like a cartoon witch, text above it reading ‘Happy  _ Howl _ -O-Ween’ in shiny, orange lettering. It had been hard to find an uglier one for Christmas, but he’d managed. 

He shifted his gaze back over to Angela and mumbled out a thready, “Hey, doc.”

It had her turning almost immediately, face lighting up to see her patient well and truly awake. She set down what she had been working on and came over to his bedside with a tablet in hand. “Jesse. How are you feeling?”

Gabe’s eyes flicked upwards from his laptop but slowly lowered back down as Angela came to Jesse’s side. Whatever conversation Gabe wanted to have could clearly wait. Jesse smiled weakly up at Angela. 

“Better ‘n before,” he said. “I take it there was a lotta silver stuck in there after the medics pulled the bullet out.”

She nodded. “It wasn’t a very pretty sight, that’s true. With the location of the injury, it made extraction a very delicate process. But, I’m pleased to say, you should recover to be right as rain!”

“Did any a’ my recruits get hurt?” As he spoke, he pushed his blankets down and tugged his hospital gown over his side to look at the big, square bandage pressed down over the wound on his belly. He gave it a prod and winced at the pain that answered him. It would be days until it was properly healed. Silver was a hell of a thing to deal with.

“No,” Angela replied with a gentle warmth. “None of them were hurt. Just a little shaken, I imagine, from seeing you so injured.”

“Good …” Jesse glanced over to Gabe, catching his eyes raised from his laptop again. Jesse smiled, glancing over his makeshift workstation. “You been here since I came in? I’m flattered, boss.” 

“I’ve been waiting to do your debrief,” Gabe said, though, of course, they could do the debrief anytime. He always did this when Jesse was in the medbay for an extended period. Hovered. He was the type who couldn’t do work and worry at the same time, so he had to see for himself that everything was alright if he was to get anything done. “We can start whenever Angela is finished with you.” 

“I’ll be quick,” She assured. And she was, although the process was not entirely comfortable. Checking pain and tenderness, asking some questions. All the usual stuff. Before too awful long, Angela was on her way, leaving him alone with Gabe, who pulled a chair up to Jesse’s bedside. He had a clipboard sitting on his knee, ready to take notes on anything that seemed relevant. 

“Let’s start with the obvious question. What happened?”

Obvious place to start, maybe, but still a doozy of a question. Jesse drummed his fingers on the bed as he thought, a hum in the back of his throat. “Everythin’ seemed fine. We were makin’ the last a’ our arrests, and then suddenly they - y’know, Talon - was everywhere.”

Gabe rubbed his chin. “Did you find any links to Talon when you were working before?” He asked.

“Yeah, some. I wasn’t sure  that’s what it was at the time, but I found some files that looked suspicious. I never did have the time to look through ‘em all proper though. Figured I could do it once I got back to base.” Jesse sighed. “I should’a taken the time to do it then, I -” He shook his head. Silence lapsed between them, only to be broken by Gabe a moment later.

“How you feeling, kiddo?” 

Jesse shrugged. “You was here for my whole check-up. You know how I’m feelin’.” 

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Gabe raised an eyebrow at him, and Jesse sighed. 

“I’m … I guess I’m kinda embarrassed.” He looked away. “First mission I’m solo-leadin’ an’ I fuck it up this good.”

“Fuck it up? You kidding me?” Jesse felt a hand lay firmly on his shoulder, squeezing it in reassurance. “Jesse, you didn’t fuck it up. The intel wasn’t there. Even if you’d read the files, I doubt you could have known that Talon would show up  _ right then _ . There’s no use blaming yourself for that. What you did do was adapt to the situation and get your whole squad out of there with only one injury and without losing any of your arrests.” Jesse still seemed unsure, lips curved down into a frown as he looked off out the window. Gabe gently tapped Jesse’s cheek. “Hey, look at me.” When he did, the commander spoke very firmly, eyes locked on Jesse’s. “I’m  _ very  _ proud of you, son.” Finally, Jesse smiled.

Satisfied that Jesse wasn’t about to die, Gabe left him to rest. Without company to keep him awake, Jesse drifted off on a cloud of sedating painkillers. The next time he opened his eyes, darkness had fallen over the room. Medbay rooms were rarely entirely dark, with the lights from the humming and beeping machines and the glow spilling under the door from the hallway. At first, Jesse’s bleary brain thought the two glinting red dots he saw were another monitor, but as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, the shape of a body formed around them.

“... Are you real?” He mumbled. 

The red dots looked up at him and blinked, slowly. “Depends on what real means to you.”

“Are you here or am I just that high on painkillers?”

“Both, most likely.” Genji’s vague form stood from where it lurked in the darkness and came closer to Jesse’s bedside. He could see him better then. Soft face, black hoodie and all.

“You doin’ alright?” Jesse asked.

"That is a question for  _ you, _ you dumbass."

Jesse just had to laugh, dry throat squeaking out a raspy chuckle. “I’m alright. Better now than when I came in.”

After a little huff, Genji retracted to grab the chair he’d been using before and dragged it over to sit beside Jesse’s bed.

Jesse stayed quiet a moment, just looking at him, then he smiled softly. “It’s really okay. The hole’s closed up an’ everythin’.” 

“Silver must hurt you a lot.”

Jesse nodded. “Yeah. It burns weres. An’ it stunts the healin’.” He tapped his belly, over where the wound was. “The hole’s closed up, but the insides where the silver shrapnel sat are still healin’, so it’s real tender.”

Something in Genji’s face made him look so tired as he leaned forward, resting his crossed forearms on the bed. He wasn’t touching Jesse, but he was quite close. He looked down. Gave pause. “You have to make it up to me,” he finally said.

Jesse gave another raspy chuckle. “I have to make it up to you for gettin’ hurt?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Alright.” Jesse took a breath and hummed, eyes rising to look at the ceiling. After a long moment of thought, he let them fall back to Genji’s face. “An’ how should I go about makin’ it up to ya?” 

Another lapse of silence passed between them. It was gentle, like the subtle beeps of the medical equipment, and the drip-drip-drop of the IV. 

“Get well.” His voice was small.

“I think I can do that,” Jesse whispered, unwilling to break the tender quiet that had settled softly between them.

“You have to … so that we can go on that mission together.”

“That won’t be for some time now, y’know.” 

Genji looked up indignantly at that, a redness in his cheeks.  _ “So?” _

“Ah …” Jesse let his head loll back against the pillows. “A’ course.” Quiet lapsed between them once more. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but Jesse had missed talking to Genji in person. He missed his presence, the feeling of him near as they spoke. “Wanna see where I got shot?”

"Is it ... still bleeding?" Genji was visibly apprehensive.

Jesse could guess how he must’ve been feeling. At the best of times, the med bay had such an overpowering scent of sterile cleanliness, stinging Jesse’s nose but at least covering up the stench of blood and misery that came with the business of injuries and sickness. Genji, however, his nose was fine-tuned to the scent of blood. He could probably smell it over everything else, and he had no way of knowing if what he was smelling was Jesse’s or not, given how many different blood-scents were likely mixing in together. It must have been hard just to be here.

“No, no. Closed up, like I said.”

“ … Sure.”

So Jesse pushed his blankets down and scooted up against the pillows, bunching his gown up over his side to show the square bandage, which he gently peeled away. Beneath it, there was the wound - in the time since the initial injury, it had closed up, as promised, but where Jesse’s bullet wounds from the night he’d met Genji were already pinkish scars by this far out, this looked different. The skin around the wound was angry and red, with thin lines snaking out around it, suggesting some kind of infection. The aftereffects of silver poisoning. They’d fade in time. 

Still, Genji puffed out an audible breath. His face was filled with an emotion Jesse couldn’t quite put his finger on. “It looks bad,” he said quietly.

“That’s silver,” Jesse sighed. “Poisons the blood. Stops you from healin’. Nasty stuff.”

Genji was quiet for quite awhile, looking at the wound with that unreadable look. His brows pressed just a little, mouth creased with a frown. He seemed to be struggling with something, a thought or idea. After a moment passed, he reached out and touched such featherlight fingertips to Jesse’s skin, careful around the wound.

Jesse bit back a gasp, swallowing the noise down. Genji’s fingers felt chilly, and it surprised him, but he didn’t jerk away. Genji was touching him. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact of the matter or the temperature of his fingertips that had Jesse’s breath shake as he exhaled. Inside, Wolf perked right up, a flash of gold in Jesse’s eyes as he gazed at Genji.

Genji pulled away, though, suddenly. He looked startled, and stared up at Jesse.

“Sorry,” Jesse said at once. “You ain’t hurt me or nothin’. It’s just … Sensitive.”

“Your … Your heart rate spiked.”

“O-oh. Did it?”

Seemed like Genji was keeping his hands to himself, now. “I thought I hurt you.”

“You didn’t. I promise.”

Another silence came, this one gentler than the others. It was a touch awkward, and a little too long, but Genji seemed thoughtful. Finally, he did quietly say, “You have a lot of scars.”

“I s’pose I do …” Even just the spot on his belly where he’d been shot was littered with smaller scars, some old and faded and others hidden in the line of dark hair that trailed across his stomach but all there. “None a’ those got nothin’ on this one though. Here -” He pulled the gown away at his shoulder, pushing it down his arm, baring his shoulder for Genji. There sat a scar far bigger than any of the others, a truly vicious thing, jagged along the edges where flesh had been ripped away by deadly fangs. “That’s about the worst one I got.”

It had those red eyes widening. Genji seemed to lose his gunshyness as he looked at it, and lifted his hand to gently trace the scarred skin. His fingers were so gentle and ginger and cool. “This is a dangerous life you live.”

“To be fair,” Jesse murmured. “That ain’t exactly by choice. This here scar’s the reason I ain’t have a choice in it.” 

Genji said nothing. Just looked up into Jesse’s eyes.

“It’s …” Jesse lowered his eyes to the bed. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful for Reyes an’ everythin’ he’s done for me, but … I wouldn’t be here if I’d never gotten bit.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s okay.” Jesse offered a shy smile. “It’s just, y’know … I figure outta everyone you probably get where I’m comin’ from.”

He received no response in particular, but it had Genji looking away from him, tired gaze pointed down. Jesse pulled his blanket up over himself and picked at a loose thread, quiet. He wondered if he should change the subject. 

“It’s just -” He hesitated a moment before continuing. “Almost everyone here was born into it. This. They don’t really understand so much.”

"… Choice was never a liberal theme in my life,” Genji mumbled. “I suppose I should be used to this.”

What could Jesse say? That he was sorry? That these terrible things should never have happened to him? Of course he was. But what would that mean? He’d never appreciated hearing such things when he was younger. Instead, he asked, “How were things around base while I was gone?”

“Fine. Things were fine.” Genji rubbed his face, and then when he looked up again, it was with the barest ghost of a smile. “Broke Morrison’s chair.”

Jesse laughed loudly at that. “What? Why?” 

“It was a moment of stress.”

“I’m sure he deserved it.” 

It blossomed a little more of a smile onto Genji’s lips and even lifted his shoulders in a small chuckle.

“Thank you for visitin’ me,” Jesse murmured. 

“I’m sorry I don’t have flowers.”

Jesse glanced over to the bedside table. On the few occasions he’d been in the hospital for extended periods before, friends around base had filled the little table up with flowers, balloons, and a variety of ‘Get well soon!’ cards. Nothing was there this time around, of course, but … His eyes shifted back to Genji, and he smiled. “I like you better than flowers.”

It seemed to have Genji lose his words in the middle of thinking them. His eyes blanked, and his cheeks flushed a visible redness. It made Jesse’s heart flutter, smile widening into a grin. After a moment of that forced silence, Genji blurted out, “You’re still high.”

“Only a little!”

He pushed up from his chair and stuffed his hands into his pockets with a huff. “Get some rest. It’s still early.”

“You gonna be here when I wake up?” 

“I won’t be here after sunrise.”

“Well … G’night. I’ll see you soon?”

With a gentle smile, Genji reached over and took hold of the blankets, pulling them up over Jesse’s chest. “Sleep.”

 

Jesse was released from the medbay promptly the next morning, with a warning from Angela to please, take it easy. For once, he intended to listen to her. 

With the full moon coming up in just a few days, being about base was getting fairly … Dubious. Normally, it wouldn’t have mattered that much to Jesse. People on base knew who he was, they knew he was a werewolf, so if he was walking around base the day of the full moon with a tail sticking out of his pants because his stupid Wolf was pressing itself right up against him inside their brain, no one thought it was all that strange. But things were different now. 

It was a dumb thing to be worried about. As though Genji would care that he had wolf ears sticking out of his hair. But at the same time, Jesse didn’t want to give Genji any reminder of that admittedly awful night the Churches got away, and moreover, he had seen the wary looks Genji had leveled at the other members of Blackwatch during their first meeting. He didn’t want Genji to look at him like that. 

He decided to keep his transformation to himself, at least this month. He’d been making an effort to keep the Wolf under strict control whenever Genji was around, and he thought he’d been doing a good job at it. For however long he could limit Genji’s exposure to it to the occasional flash of gold in his eyes, Jesse would be grateful. 

He wondered if Genji would try to visit him in the medbay again. If he didn’t, then maybe Jesse could get away just pretending he’d only been released after the full moon was already over. He made himself scarce, keeping mostly to his dorm, giving Gabe the excuse that he was worn out and needed as much time as possible to rest up before the full moon - which wasn’t a lie, really. If anything could reopen a wound, it was all the twisting and changing that came with the transformation, so if he wanted to give that hole in his belly the best chance of staying closed, he’d need to rest up. 

There was, unfortunately, an unforeseen problem with all this. The Wolf wanted to see Genji. It missed him. Jesse could tell from the tug deep in his chest, the urge to walk on down to Genji’s dorm just to say hello. The disappointed grumbling in the back of his mind when he went the other way, back to his own room. 

“I know, I know,” he mumbled. For once, he wasn’t in disagreement with it; he wanted to see Genji, too, but they just  _ couldn’t _ . Not right now. He just wanted a little bit longer pretending he didn’t have to share his brain with anything. “You don’t get to meet Genji. He’s my friend, not yours.” 

 

A warm wind rustled the leaves beneath Jesse’s feet as he ventured out into the woods on the evening before the full moon. The sun was still up, though dipping low in the horizon. Jesse loved the sunlight, craved how it could temper the effects of the moon’s glow. A gut feeling he knew was the Wolf urged him to turn around and head back towards base, and he huffed in frustration. 

“You always wanna run around in the woods. Tonight ain’t gonna be no different, you hear me? So help me, if I hear you went rompin’ off back to base to try an’ find Genji, I’ll find a basement to lock myself in next month. I told you, you don’t get to meet him. Leave him the hell alone. He don’t want nothin’ to do with you.” 

He knew it was lonely. It had been years and years since it had had a pack to run with on full moons. Artico and Sommer, the other werewolves on base, had on more than one occasion invited Jesse to spend the full moon with them, but he just didn’t trust the damn thing. For all he knew, the stupid Wolf would decide it wanted to be the new Alpha of the little pack and pick a fight with the two of them. For a while after first joining, he’d spent full moons with Lieutenant Cohen, and that was alright. A polar bear was plenty big enough to keep Wolf on his best behavior. She’d started spending full moons with her family not long after his recruitment though, so that had fallen through. Gabe had offered before to keep an eye on him during full moons, but even if he was a witch, Jesse still had concerns over the Wolf being given free reign around anyone smaller than a werebear. 

Maybe it would have been fine. Maybe the Wolf would be as friendly as a puppy. But ‘maybe’ wasn’t good enough, and if Jesse didn’t trust it, he didn’t think anyone else should, either.

And so, he headed out to the woods alone. 

At least it wasn’t cold, he thought as he stripped out of his clothes. Transformations in the dead of the Swiss winter were rough. Sure,  _ it  _ was fine with all its fur, but  _ he  _ didn’t have that benefit. He was just a man, naked in the middle of the woods, waiting for the sun to go down. He needed to focus on his transformation and not ripping the hole in his stomach back open tonight. He prodded at the scar. The lines of sickness from the poisoning had faded, but the area was still tender days later. Goddamn Talon. First thing was first as soon as he was done with the moon - he wanted to get on figuring out what connection Talon had there. 

And then he and Genji could … Ah. He was thinking about Genji again. He shouldn’t do that. He should keep his mind on the moment, not on the man back at base. 

Golden eyes raised to the moon as the sun finally disappeared behind the horizon. No. He already knew his mind would be thinking of little else other than Genji tonight. 


End file.
